#Public Security Section 9 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 5 months ago

Text

My Oh My - R.S.

Synopsis. Trick or treat! The mean ínmate in Room 6/9 doesn’t want halloween candy - he wants something else much, much sweeter.

Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, ínmate! Sukuna, slight foódplay, creampíes, bràt-taming, use of “góod girl”, MEAN softíe Sukuna, PÚSSYDRUNK Sukuna, oraI (fem receiving), fíngering, Sukuna’s piercings and tattoos, dry-húmping, squírting, spítting, bódy worshíp, exhíbitionism, slight Gojo x Reader, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 6.7k (sigh)

A/N. Yes, the seventh day of k!nktober had to be Sukuna even tho I’m a Gojo-gagger…

“Nanami chill.”

It’s twelve in the dead of Halloween, and Nanami Kento does, in fact, not chill - not when he’s five hours deep into overtime at the most high security prison in all of Japan, running on only three cups of caffeine and the promise of a day off sometime in the next year.

“You know I can’t do that.” he rubs his throbbing temples, heaving out a sigh as he often does. Taking one long look around the glaringly empty surveillance office, “Especially not today of all days.”

You’re humming in flippant agreement, but that only makes the furrow in your partner’s brows deepen even more. “I know I know. But don’t you think the inmates deserve something a lil’ special today? I mean, he-” Pointing at the grainy CCTV footage on your computer screen - showing one, Ryomen Sukuna, in his padded cell. Watching. Waiting. “-didn’t get a single visitor all year.”

And before Nanami can even think to open his mouth, you’re already dusting down your uniform. Grabbing the bowl of candy propped between you two that you’d swiped from the break room.

“Wait-”

“After all, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Now, you’ve always been told that you’re a little softer than most when it comes to your inmates - which perhaps wasn’t the best quality to have when your section was filled to the brim with the most infamous of yakuza and serial criminals. But they respected you. Hell, Nanami loved to roll his eyes at this one but - you think they almost liked you.

Especially Ryomen Sukuna.

You shiver at the long, long list of crimes of his that you had to memorize in your early days - distinctly remembering the way your laptop had crashed with just how far you had to scroll.

Honestly, you weren’t surprised that the most wanted crime boss across the globe wouldn’t get anything other than public threats and a few snarling officers that laugh smugly in his face. Though, you have had to sift out a few perfumed fan mail from time to time.

And even before you’d started this job, you knew of him - who didn’t?

The King of Curses, they called him. And what a king he was.

Some say he was just a crook. Others say he was a beast that seemed like he had four arms and twice the power of any normal human being.

Right before his arrest, the Curses owned half of Japan’s revenue - he was untouchable. With his deceivingly innocent signature pink hair, those circling tattoos all across his body, and the dark, dark bloodthirst to get whatever he wanted. Whenever. And fast.

It’d made international news when he was finally caught - only after a long, agonizing syndicate war between himself and the Six Eyes. It was your first day working here, and you were there to spy it firsthand when he was brought in. Shackles clanking along the metallic prison floor, towering well above the eight officers by his side, being hauled into that specialized cell like some animal.

And, yet, through it all Sukuna was smiling - smiling like he knew something that everyone in this building didn’t.

It still burns into your memory the way he’d stopped right in his tracks for the first time on his way up here, stalling for just a second. Two. Before looking right into your widened eyes, devilish grin only growing at your trembling figure.

Ryomen Sukuna had his eyes on you from the moment those handcuffs locked him in here.

And he still did.

“Hey there, Kuna-” you’re humming after the long, tedious task of unlocking all sixteen padlocks on his heavy metal door. It clamors to a shut behind you with a deafening clang! Locked from the inside. With him. Alone. “How are we doing today?”

Sukuna was sat on the padded floor of his cell, knees brought up to his broad chest. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said he almost looked like a scolded child - had it not been for the custom-made metal cuffs that restrained him up to his very forearms. A matching leather muzzle drawn tight to cover half of his pretty face.

He was the very epitome of all you should stay away from in this prison.

And, yet, you find yourself walking towards him, carefully trying not to step on the hefty chains of his shackled ankles.

It surrounds you like an iron serpent, clinking lightly when he’s raising his half-lidded eyes to look up at you. “Heh- will it reduce my sentence if I say s’better now that you’re here, brat?”

Sukuna’s deep baritone was husky with disuse, hitching sharply at the end of his sweet little nickname for you. From what little you could make out behind the muzzle, you catch the slow, sultry curl of his plump lips. “Or should I say-” His gaze trickles down to your glinting golden badge, narrowing. “-officer.”

You’re rolling your eyes, “You and I both know we’re past all that, Sukuna.”

“Not past that enough, dontcha think?” he’s cracking his neck with a slight tilt side by side, as if he hadn’t even realized how long he’d been sitting here until you’d wandered your way inside. Cocking his head up slightly at the small glass bowl still clutched in your hands, “Somethin’ sweet from someone sweet f’me?”

“Oh-” you’re sputtering out. He knew exactly what buttons to push to tease and toy with you without even lifting a finger. “-yes, trick or treat! Since it’s Halloween I thought I might as well share the spirit.”

He’s bellowing out a husky laugh that rumbles from deep within his chest, and you have to tear your eyes away from the slight, sinful sliver of tan skin that peeks out at the jostle of his thin cotton t-shirt.

You hated to admit it - but you almost understood exactly why Sukuna got so many fan letters that you had to throw out. A secret you’d whispered to Nanami over break and then never again after he fully ignored you for a week afterwards.

Sukuna takes his languid time stretching out his limbs, and you get the distinctly hot feeling that he’s doing this on purpose. One eye cracked to watch your every jolt when the hem of his t-shirt raises just a bit too high, when his long, long legs nudging lightly against your feet.

You huff, “Well, would ya like some or not? Because I can just give all of it to Mahito in the next cell-”

“Ah, you’re so damn hot when you’re mad.” he grins, and now you know he’s having fun with you. “Fuckin’ demanding, too.”

He’s bringing up his two firmly restrained arms up to your line of vision. “And, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, silly girl, but m’a little ah- preoccupied, here.”

Oh, right.

Shit.

It would’ve been so easy to just move your fingers over to the keys in your backpocket and unlock his handcuffs for the slightest second. So easy to shut his cocky mouth up by doing the very things he knows he won’t goad you into doing.

But you sneak a glimpse up at the camera positioned at the very corner of the room - trained on the hunched over-figures of the two of you - as if to say, “Hey, see, Nanami?”

“Nice try.” And you swear you hear the great Ryomen Sukuna gasp - gasp - a sharp, tiny inhale when you reach out towards the very back of his muzzle. Your fingers scratching up lightly against his silken tresses as you feel for the clasp, letting it fall to the ground in a sad pile. Soft - it’s the first thing on your mind, and the next was how unfairly attractive Sukuna looked without his muzzle. “But you’re not going anywhere.”

He just beams up at you, showing off his slightly sharpened canines. Facial tattoos almost as sinful as the darkened glint in his eyes, “Heh- as if I’d wanna go absolutely anywhere else right now.”

Before you can snap back - or more likely, make a fool out of yourself to his amusement - he cranes his neck desperately upwards. “So? Jus’ gonna stand there givin’ me a pretty view or what?”

Too soon, you’re realizing what he wants.

And too readily, you’re crouching down till you’re eye-level with his greedy gaze. Hastily unwrapping one of the candies, “Open wide.”

Sukuna only grins. “Get closer would ya? M’not a fuckin’ giraffe now, am I?”

Fuck.

Wordlessly, you inch closer.

“Closer. These chains aren’t as long as they look y’know.”

And closer.

“Just a bit more- I don’t bite. Promise.”

And-

“Good girl.”

Before you know it - Sukuna has you exactly where he wants you. Losing your fragile balance to topple over into his awaiting lap, manspread, cushioning your fall. His biceps flex against his restraints, as if some second nature of his wanted to wrap those tattooed arms around your waist.

“I-” you’re gasping, palms gliding over his feeble uniform. Feeling every curve and divot along his hard front- fuck, he felt like a wall of bricks. So toned underneath that fabric, your chin rests softly on the valley between his plush pecs. “I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“S’perfect though, isn’t it?” he’s cutting you off, leaning in so close now that you could feel your cheeks heat with each of his feverish puffs of air. The very tip of his nose kissing yours. “Now you can reach me- honestly, why complain when life gives ya lemons, woman.”

Your breath hitches, “I…”

“So? Gonna gimme some of that sweetness?”

You’re still unsure of what’s happening. And all you can do is to wordlessly bring the sweet treat up to his lips, almost flinching when the warm softness of his lips brush up against your fingertips.

And shit, you know what it must look like on the outside, you know that Nanami’s probably halfway through jumping out of his seat at the surveillance office already.

But you really can’t bring yourself to think about that right now - not when Sukuna’s wrapping his rosy lips around your fingers. Eyes drooping shut slowly. Lazily. Lingering longer than necessary when his tongue swipes at the candy.

It all but melts in your hand, and as soon as you’re about to pull back-

“Hold right there f’me now.”

You’re sure if Sukuna’s hands were freed then he’d have claimed a strong grip on your wrist already, because he was just nuzzling his face into your touch. Sighing out, “Can’t have my officer all dirty now, can I?”

His long, pink tongue comes up to just drag along your digits, making you keen at the slight scratch of his soft taste buds. One by one. Each of your fingers. Sucking, groaning.

Smiling at you slyly, he’s dragging his tongue in between your index and your middle finger, slurping up all the sweetened candy from before. “What? Cat got yer tongue?”

“Y-you-”

“Y-y-y-you-” he mocks, baritone voice a few octaves dramatically higher than usual. Through his smirk, Sukuna bites down on the very tip of your index, making you wince at the sharp sting of his canines. “If ya got somethin’ to say then spit it out like the big girl you are.”

He’s so leeringly smug, watching back as you struggle to meet his intense gaze as if it was his favorite show. Oh, how he wants to tease you about that little good girl routine you put whenever you stop by his cell - always smiling, always in that snug uniform that made you look so irresistible, always talking to him so sweetly as if he wasn’t the king of curses himself.

Never in his life would he admit it, but it was so…cute.

And Sukuna half-expects you to jump back this very second, to throw another one of your pouts his way and scamper off back to the safety of your office. He expects you to-

“Kiss me.”

Oh.

Fuck.

That was not what Sukuna expected - never in the hundreds of years he was sentenced to rot in this prison.

But, well, looking down at the way you were splayed out so prettily on his lap - your chin jutting forwards, hands steadied on his pecs, glossed-up lips all pursed for him - how could he ever say no?

In a split-second, he’s kissing you.

And you’re kissing him back and fuck- is it intoxicating.

Sukuna meshes his lips against yours so slowly, savoring. Angling his head just enough to suckle on your honeyed lips, you’re feeling his hips gently buck upwards, drinking up your light groans.

You mewl when he slides his soft tongue between your lips. And that’s when you learn that Sukuna has a tongue piercing, cold and metallic against your lips. He tastes so sweet - exactly like the artificial strawberry from the sweet earlier and-

“Hah-” you’re gasping at the soft clink! of something sweet, something hard being placed all prettily right in the middle of your tongue - the candy. Brows raising, “Isn’t that-”

“So what if it is?” he’s grunting, not letting you part too far away before sitting up even straight to surge his lips against yours. Mellow. Addicted. Sukuna just loved how sweet you were on him - even more so than that godforsaken candy. He’s craning upwards to nip lightly at your bottom lip, “Got a problem?”

You were so pliant on top of him, swiveling your hips down lazily at his question instead of answering. Over and over. And Sukuna almost finds it in himself to taunt you until you answer- before one manicured hand of yours grips his face, letting his sharp jaw slack open.

Only giving the candy a few drippingly wet swirls inside your mouth before spitting - a thick wad of candied spit right onto Ryomen Sukuna’s tongue. Glistening against his piercing.

And he takes it.

Surprisingly, hypnotically takes it.

He groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he mouths in that tiny piece of strawberry candy back. You hear the crunch! of it underneath his teeth, kissing you even deeper to show off how he’d swallowed every tiny shard.

Curling his legs around your form, it’s all it takes for his gaze to drop half-lidded, chest panting - heaving - he smiles a dangerous curve of his lips against yours.

Sharp teeth glinting against your own, he chuckles. “I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun, dontcha think, brat?”

You can only take it when he rolls his yearning hips up into yours. You feel so dizzy at the massive outline of his half-hardened cock underneath you - solid, thorough inches girthing upwards against your heated cunt.

“But first-” His teeth bite down on your lower lip, and he pulls. “-think m’gonna hafta hah- teach ya to be a good girl f’me.”

Clang!

All of a sudden, the heavy ripping of metal rings across your dazed head - and Sukuna’s just tearing apart his durable metallic handcuffs as if they were made of nothing but paper.

“What-” you gasp rubs over where the tough restraints had rubbed his skin redly raw, oh he just basks in all your sputtering disbelief. “You could remove it- but- but that was special grade?”

“Ya really thought a pile of trash like that would keep me put? Of course, I could fuckin’ get out, don’t be silly, woman.” He quirks a slitted brow with genuine confusion - almost as if he was offended at the very thought. And before you know it, Sukuna’s throwing away the useless pieces of junk towards a nestled corner of the cell - hitting exactly on the bullseye of that damn CCTV he hated so much. Both of you watch when it topples brokenly to the ground. He hums, low and sultry, “I just hadn’t found a good ‘nough reason until now.”

Almost immediately, his hands are on you. Everywhere. Anywhere.

Coaxing such pretty whines out of you when Sukuna ravages along every inch of your body, large calloused palms kneading down your tits, your waist, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Ohh- this s’the life.” he groans, all ten of his thick digits squeezing and teasing you. He’s leaning down to nip lightly at your ear lobe, “Almost makes me forget what a naughty girl ya actually are.”

“I’m not-” you answer immediately, but it comes out much more breathless than you intended and both of you know that.

“Oh yeah?” Sukuna jostles the two of you so that you’re fully laid out across his hulking body now, and you’re squirming already - desperately trying to wiggle your hips down to where he was throbbing. To glide the sopping wet place between your thighs down his rock-hard erection. For this, you’re gifted with a branding slap! on the curve of your ass, Sukuna holding you firmly in place. “Doesn’t explain why you’re already s’fuckin’ wet like a slut, my pretty baby.”

You lick up the tattoo on his chin, “But- but Kuna-”

Another needy grind - another smack.

“Now what did I jus’ fuckin’ say?” he hisses, and the primal rasp in his tone just makes you drenched.

And Sukuna notices - of course, he notices. Drunken red eyes widening, oh, he could almost feel how fucking soaking you were through all those clothes. Too many clothes, in his opinion.

Which is why he has one hand fisting furiously at your smart uniform shirt, not a single word or apology uttered before he just shreds it right off your heaving chest.

“Oh my god-” you squeal, your hands coming up to clutch at the tatters of fabric and your badge. And your lips pout out in such a way that makes his cock just twitch, mumbling out stubbornly, “That was my new uniform-”

“S’what happens when ya get too greedy like this.” His knees raise up a bit more to rub your glissading cunt along the very curve of his fat tip. Just dragging your dripping cunt all along his bulging dick, reveling in the sticky schwf! schwf! schwf! of wet fabric. Sukuna gives an impatient tug on the fabric of your pants, “Now get rid of this before I tear that off, too.”

You couldn’t shuffle out of your belt and trousers fast enough. And oh, even that wasn’t enough for Sukuna - dazedly flinging off what remained of your shirt, your bra, before turning his eyes downwards and-

“Oh, good girl.” he whispers at the sight of you in nothing but your flimsy excuse of panties. So soaked - translucent, even - your saturated juices making such a glossy mess at your inner thighs. He can’t help but flick at the tiny bow on your underwear, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Such a good girl, aren’t ya?”

“K-Kuna-” you’re barely even thinking at this point, panting. “Wan’ to feel you–”

He’s tittering a breathy moan disguised as a laugh at this, bringing up a hand to cup your cheeks. “Awww, my pretty baby wants my cock?” he coos, squeezing in two of his thick fingers between your lips.

But if Sukuna was looking for an answer, then he doesn’t wait for it.

A spit-glossed pout finds its way to his lips, mocking your own. And fuck, he was such a little tease. One hand giving your ass another slap! just to watch you whine and pretend that it didn’t make your pussy even more embarrassingly wet - shit, he was having fun. The other pulling out from inside your mouth, delicate strings of spit snap when he’s gliding his coated digits down, down, down-

“Oh-” you tuck your trembly head into the crook of his neck when Sukuna drags his thumb just across your puffed-up pussy lips. Slowly. Tantalizingly.

“Oh?” he huffs out, licking his lips at just how steamingly wet you were inside. So ready for him. “‘Oh’ is all?”

Sukuna plants another lingering smack on your ass, and by now you’re sure by now he’s left the bumpy imprint of all five fingers on your flesh. Tracing between your swollen folds gingerly with just the rounded tip of his finger up and down up and down. He gets greedy.

“Damn brat-” And it’s all the warning you get before he just forces two of his fat fingers into your messily throbbing pussy. Rubbing all around your tightly quivering entrance, “S’what I get for spoiling you too much.”

There’s no hiding from the way he stretches you open so obscenely, having your sloppy hole just gaping around his digits. All wet and cozy inside.

“Oh- m-more-” you mewl.

But he only continues rubbing saturated little circles around your teasing entrance, humming hotly against your lips. “Hmm, dunno. Think we hafta teach you some manners, silly girl.” And each of his fingers were so thick, stretching out the channel of your cunt until your mouth watered. Your body was limp, hips stuttering down softly into his hold - trying so uselessly to fuck yourself back down onto him, as if he wasn’t easily holding you still with just one beefy arm around your waist. “How about a ‘please’ first?”

You scramble to dig your nails into his bulky deltoids, tracing around his circular tattoos peeking out. “P-please!”

“Nuh uh-” he snickers. “No stutterin’”

“Please!”

Sukuna pretends to think for a few syrupy slow seconds. He nips down softly at the sensitive spots on your neck, having you trembling like a feather in his vice-like grasp. “How about a ‘pretty please’?”

And oh, he grins at the way you’re almost on the verge of tears at this point, your pouty lower lip wobbly with effort. Trying so desperately to comply with the demands of your inmate, you buck your hips so that the soft mountains on his palm graze against your clit. Whimpering, “Wh-what if I w-walked away right now, Kuna?”

“My my, resorting to threats?” he’s whispering filthily in your ear. “Now I know you’re bluffin’ woman. Because I hngh- also know-” So smug when he tugs down the soft cotton of his pants just enough to let his achy cock spring free. “That you’re gonna stay n’ beg f’me like the good girl you are.”

And you hated that he was right.

You hated that he was so big.

Hefty girth slapping up onto his abs with a wet smack! Sukuna’s red, rounded tip was so thick that you could feel your thighs clench, swiping up a glossy glide of precum onto his t-shirt. Drip! Drip! dripping along the crevices of his veins and down to his eager balls, those tufts of pink at his base. All his solid inches winked up at you glisteningly in the harsh cell light. Just waiting. Throbbing.

It made your mouth water.

So you finally answer, voice strained and breaking at the very end. “I- I wan’ you really badly, Kuna.” He sucks in a breath when you bat your teary lashes up at him, “Pretty please?”

“My good girl.”

At this very moment, the only other response you get is a sensual, slow drag of his fingers out of your cunt. The exact opposite of what you wanted - because, of course, this was Ryomen Sukuna. You whine, clawing desperately at his wrist to try and reel him back.

But he doesn’t stop. Can’t stop. Almost hypnotized in the way he brings his drenched fingers up into his mouth without a second thought. Sukuna moans at the taste. A glossy trail of your messy slick forms down the corner of his slurping mouth, and he throws his head back with a guttural, “Oh fuck- s’sweeter than any of that hah- candy.”

Ah, that did it.

Only milliseconds later, you’re being spread all flat on the floor with one swift shove of Sukuna’s big arms, panties sliding easily down your shivering thighs. It really doesn’t take much to have your dangling legs splayed out across his sculpted back, his own body shuffling down ravenously to come lips-to-lips with your puffy pussy.

And oh you can feel his smile against your dripping wet cunt, half-lidded eyes boring right up into yours. Long, pinkish tongue lolling out like he was utterly fucked - and if you angled your head just right you could see the way he was deftly spreading both of your swollen folds, the very tip of the hot muscle kissing wetly against your sloppy entrance.

“Shiiiit-” your fingers tangle themselves in his rusty pink hair. Hips jittery and bucking up drunkenly against the cool surface to chase his hot mouth. “Oh- ngh- Love havin’ your m-mouth on me- ngh-”

“Gettin’ all mouthy w’me, huh? Aren’t ya embarrassed to be absolutely ruined like this by a criminal like me?” he huffs out a bout of raspy laughter. “S’all because you decided to be a- fuck- a good- girl f’me, that’s- what.” Struggling to even get out coherent sentences because he didn’t want to part from your pretty pussy. Instead kissing all over again and again-

The bulbous metal stud of his tongue piercing thrashes up so filthily against your hot clit, coating the sensitive nub in all of his heady, swelteringly hot saliva.

And the only time you’re registering Sukuna break away just mere inches is to spit. Once. Twice.

Thumbing across the stream of see-through spit he just grins up at you in a way you knew to be a pussydrunken expression. Glassy eyes almost drooping shut, tiny dimples cratering at the very ends of his lips, the entire lower half of his face covered in a shiny sheen of slick. Drip! Drip! Drip! right onto the middle of your shamefully spread cunt.

“Ya got me thinkin’ I’d wanna live out my entire life sentences jus’ for a taste of this pretty pussy, woman.”

Roughly lapping with his tongue against your clit, each one pulling out crashing waves of white-hot pleasure that make you all but sob when Sukuna unabashedly adds in his fingers past your gummy hole.

“You can take it-” he hushes out uncharacteristically soothingly into your inner thighs, peppering soft, open-mouthed kisses along them. “Take ‘em f’me.”

Sukuna isn’t shy about immediately dragging his fingers along your sopping wet folds. Starting up a ruthless, simpering pace thrusting inside and out of your drooling entrance has you whining.

“Oh.” your mouth slack-jaws open deliriously, and for the second time tonight you feel like you’re being absolutely split-apart on his thick fingers. Splaying out a hand to glide across your tummy, “You- hngh- you already feel s-so deep, Kuna.”

Your words were cracking with a whimper each time he’s delving into your gushing depths. Building you up, wringing you taut with pleasure whenever he picked up the pace. Alternating between harsh sucks on your cunt and the absolute meanest of swipes against the spongy placeholders of your sweet spots.

“Already?” he has the audacity to cackle - cackle right in front of your teary face. “M’barely even f-fingering this pussy n’ you wanna talk about deep- lemme show ya-” He spares not even the tiniest ounce of mercy when hauling your boneless body even closer. Brows furrowing at the knocking of his chin at the very base of your cunt, the way his jaw grinded. Sukuna replaces the hand on your stomach with his own free one, guiding it up, up, up until your eyes widened and you could feel your breath tightening in your chest.

“Here.” Drawing a burning, imaginary line about halfway through - “Here is where my cock s’gonna be so ya better get- better get ready for that, pretty baby.” Looking right in your eyes, Sukuna’s tone is laced with a vicious sort of snarl when he plows on, “Because my good girl s’gonna be able to take it.”

And you’d heard of the type or orgasms that leave you speechless, that leave you so blindsided that you don’t even realize you’re having them.

Because it takes only a few more expert tweaks of Sukuna’s lengthy fingers up against every nook and crevice of your. Scissoring, swirling - round and round until he was dredging up your dizzying orgasm.

“Oh my god- I think I’m-” your words are garbling together pathetically, wet and as unsteady as each jolt of electricity running down your spine. “I’m-”

“Cumming.” he’s cutting through, tugging you by the thighs even closer to make out impossibly deeper with your convulsing pussy. Rolling his eyes, “I know I know, just shut up n’ cum all over my mouth would ya?”

It’s not like you could do anything else.

And - as a little punishment - your grip tightens searingly on his scalp, just dragging your drooling pussy all over his pretty features. Letting yourself gush all down his tongue in a steady trickle while you ride him to your heart’s content.

“Heh- getting so fuckin’- hngh- fucking greedy, aren’t ya?” he mutters out over wet slurps. Still hammering in the pads of his fingers to press up harshly into your bulging sensitive spots. “S’alright. Use me then, use me-”

Your back arches almost painfully, vision tinging with slight black at the edges, and it’s as if you were out of control at this point.

“Now now, what do you think you’re doin’ huh?” he feeds into each of your stuttering, slick glides down into his palm while you come down from your high. Eyes narrowing down at you, “And here I thought you were turnin’ into my- hah- g-good girl. Where are those hands going, huh?”

Shit, you didn’t even realize it at first.

Your hands are wandering so sluttily down to where his thickened base was just twitching in his lap. Aching to wrap your trembly fingers wrapping around him - struggling to even close.

“Oh- oh my god.” your eyes widen after a few sloppy drags of your soft palm down his length. Curving it slightly to the side at the sight of another one of his signature ringed tattoos - right around his fat base. “You have another tattoo here?”

Sukuna clenches his jaw, hips rutting upwards at a sloppy staccato in synchronization with his hands and yours. “Yeah- n’ I already know you love it-” he shudders out, chest panting. “-because I can already feel just how much wetter ya got- shit-”

With all of his almost-inhuman strength, it’s almost too easy for Sukuna to drag your body downwards to his like some silly little ragdoll.

“Kuna–” you’re dragging out in a breathy tone. Your hands shakily tugging on his t-shirt - your mind finally clear enough to realize that he was still fully clothed while you bare and fucked-out already underneath him. “Wan’ this off-”

Smack!

“Forgettin’ your place, aren’t ya, pretty baby?” he growls, but fuck did Sukuna think you looked so utterly gorgeous like this. All pouty and teary, letting out the cutest whines while you waited for him to do exactly what you said.

And, well, he might be the notorious king of curses, the most wanted criminal in all of Japan - but that didn’t mean that Sukuna was any match for you.

“M’only listenin’ because you were so f-fuckin’ good f’me hngh- earlier, brat.” he spits out. Hastily ridding himself of both that paper-thin t-shirt and pants - not tearing, you note with slight disgruntlement. Kissing your ass with another smack of his palm for good measure. You wince when he flicks your forehead, “So ya better not let it get to that pretty lil’ head of yours.”

But fuck, was it so difficult not to.

Sukuna was so mouth-wateringly gorgeous, all sculpted muscle and what looked to be miles upon miles of tanned skin that you just wanted to bite into. And you realize - with a jolt - that when those other inmates rumored he had tattoos everywhere - they weren’t lying. Thick, circular rings that highlight his bulging biceps, those toned thighs as far as your eye could see.

Now you really understood the fan mail.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Those drippingly wet smacks this time didn’t come from Sukuna’s hands on your ass - instead, it was from calculated, purposeful little slaps of his thick cock onto your clit.

“Heh, as much as I love to have my- ngh! my cute lil’ officer ogling me-” His hand coming up to curl around your throat, forcing you to peer downwards. “-I’d rather you look where it r-really matters, silly girl.”

He sounded so proud - barely lucid already at the very sight of your tight, glistening hole kissing up against his fat tip.

Dragging a thumb down your wet slit to grin at the size difference even further, he purrs, “Yeah…this pussy has been givin’ me a real treat tonight. Might as well give her one back, hm?”

And he’s so big, so full that you can’t even whine out anything coherent when Sukuna sinks into your sloppy cunt inch by fucking solid inch. Pushing past that ring of feeble resistance, your pussy was greedily swallowing up every bit of his massive girth. Letting out the cutest squelches that make him moan.

“Oh- would ya look at that?” he bares his teeth in a devilish smile. Head thrown back at how you’re already clamping and trying to milk him with your velvety walls. “Takin’ me so well, ya really are such a good girl, huh?”

Each and every hoarse little praise is panted raggedly against your ear, and your pussy slides up and down his swollen shaft in a sultry back and forth. And Sukuna just can’t tear his eyes away from the way your cunt swallows him up so greedily - so frantically like you were trying to milk something delicious out of him.

“Kuna- hngh!” your thighs quiver up and down. Hips moving in slow gyrations against how he was rummaging all inside you. “Y-you’re stretching me out so good ah-”

He’s still trying to squeeze inside, still pushing and pushing. Pressing a hand down on your stomach, “Told you I’d be right-” Bottoming out. Hard. “-here.”

Each and every juttering ram into your gooey depths have you keening, and his eyes growing even wilder. Grin curling upwards at how every kiss of the very tip of his rotund cock has your spongy cervix bouncing into him, your walls pulsing where he swipes inside. Looking for-

“Fuck!”

That.

“Heheh- hope ya can take it, brat. Because once I start-” he presses hot peck after peck down your jaw. “I can’t stop.”

You learn very quickly that that wasn’t a threat - it was a promise.

Every plunge into your melty pussy has you almost bawling, because Sukuna wasn’t gentle - no, he doesn’t even ease you into it. The soft curve of his head presses in so harshly against your bulging g-spot, so thoroughly in rough, wet glides. Each single hammer upwards sinking against wherever drove out the prettiest moans from your pouty lips, having you such a shaky mess underneath of him.

Exactly how he’s been wanting you this past year in confinement.

“W-what-” you sputter out, dragging your nails across his neck to mash your lips onto his. Tasting the candy and you and the candy- “This past year?”

Oh. Shit.

“Heheh- did I say that out loud?” Sukuna rumbles, struggling to catch his breath while he swallows back each keened-out whimper threatening to break out from his lips. He gives your tongue a slow, tasteful suck. “Whoops- hah fuuuuck- you see what this pussy does t’me?”

He brings one large hand down to your jittery hips, the other drawing a tender stripe across your still-sensitive clit. That heavenly feeling just makes you clench, and Sukuna to throw his head back with a withering groan. “S’fuckin’ dangerous- you’re more fuckin’ dangerous than me- hah-”

You giggle at the way he was running his mouth now, sentences slurring together like he couldn’t even find the words.

“You see this-” he pants, so sensitive that Sukuna can’t help but tuck his face into the crook of your neck. And you feel the burning flush of his cheeks, the way he brings your hand up to pat his plush pec, thumping thunderously underneath his heated skin. “-got me fuckin’ crazy here- ngh! M’on my knees for you n’ you’re all here actin’ like such a good girl.”

As he babbles, Sukuna actually falls back onto his knees.

Dragging you right along with him to spearhead his cock vertically into your snug channel, his powerful thighs are thrusting up, up, up-

“Oh-” You’re wrapping your arms tightly around his neck when faced with another stinging smack! And this time he takes the opportunity to roll his fat thumb even deeply against your clit. “S’so-”

Sukuna’s eyes were half-lidded now, grumbling out little profanities into your mouth. “What? Can’t even speak now?” He chuckles - but it sounds higher-pitched, breathless like he was fucking losing it. “Doesn’t- ngh- doesn’t matter- this cunt is speakin’ ‘nough for the both of ya. Why dontcha act like my good girl n’ ask what she’s sayin’?”

God, your face burned with such mortification - and it’s all you can do to dart a bleary look towards that smashed CCTV camera once more. Gulping out a breathy, “Wh-what is she ah- sayin’, Kuna?” over those deafening squelch! squelch! squelches.

He positively beams, “She’s saying…” Nipping down on your lower lip, tasting that familiar strawberry on your tongue. “-that right about now she’s gonna cum.”

And sure enough, a particularly harsh clashing glide across your g-spot has you sobbing, has you twitching - it has you cumming. Over and over all over Sukuna’s relentless cock, and not just that-

“Shit, woman.” Sukuna stares, jaw-dropped in awe at the absolute mess your overwhelmed cunt was gushing out. Coating his erratic thighs in a wet gleam of all your juices, it seeps into his skin, dripping down the curve of his legs and onto the padded floors. “Fuckin’ squirted all over me, you’re fuckin’ ah- unreal- fuck–”

If he couldn’t maintain that gruff tone of it that’s because he was genuinely in heaven. Mouth watering, achy cock twitching up into the cushiony sides of your walls once.

Before he’s shooting such a sloppy load into your already-messed-up pussy, dumping out thick volumes of seed again and again. It sloshes in all over your insides with every quivering wave of your own orgasm, seeping out from the edges of your sopping slit. Slobbering. Overspilling.

Sukuna grunts, feeling you shift gingerly up and down to milk each of his stringy ribbons of cum, leaving sinful dredge after dredge that paints a creamy white ring around his base.

“Fuckin’ wastin’ it-” he’s jeering, plugging in one of his indexes into your already fully-stuffed entrance. “Better keep that shit all inside- m’not gonna let my good girl waste it, m’kay?”

“Mhm.” you nod, your drowsy body leaning heavily into his. And Sukuna wraps both his strong arms around you to just pin you to his body. “Might jus’ be the best Halloween I’ve ever had-”

“It fuckin’ better be or so help me-”

SLAM!

“Yo, King of Curses~” both of you snap your heads over to the sudden intruder that’d just crashed the bolted cell door open. He was tall, enveloped by the harsh light from behind - but you could make out those features anywhere. Any guard in this prison could. Throwing over a heavy leather jacket Sukuna’s way, “I tried to wait until your pillowtalk was over but Nanamin can only hold off the bastards on morning shift for so long. So ah chop chop, Suguru’s already waiting for us.”

Gojo Satoru.

Leader of Six Eyes, foe of Ryomen Sukuna.

Looking at you like he wanted to positively devour you, “Or, well, if your cute lil’ officer’s coming, too, then we could continue this when we get back to the hideout. Don’t you think, sweetheart~”

And Sukuna, oh Sukuna was scowling ever so slightly at the other’s words - but he only had eyes for you. “So, whaddaya say, brat?”

---

In the hazy haven of the surveillance room, Nanami lets out a deep shudder. Head thrown back against his leather chair, he takes a few bleary moments to collect his breath.

“Fuck…” he groans, placing that small handheld camera monitor on the table. A secret one. One that no one working in this prison building - and least of all you - knew about. All of that had been an accident, really - an unintentional part of the plan. But the way that Nanami has to drag his boxers upwards, zipping his uniform pants back up wasn’t.

Taking a steadying gulp, he throws away that soiled tissue. Fingers punching in a few numbers on his phone, all according to his rehearsed script. “Yes, hello?” watching the monitor unwavering. Unsurprised. “We might have a situation.”

A/N. *BAM* hits you with random plottwist.

Plagiarism not authorized.

10K notes · View notes

aceyalonso · 4 months ago

Text

dirty dancing - DANIEL RICCIARDO

pairing : boss/bartender!daniel ricciardo x stripper!reader kinktober day 9

summary : what happens when y/n does a simple dance routine that turns into something dirtier?

warnings/notes : swearing, smut (with some plot), kinda public sex?, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!), creampie, multiple orgasms, oral (both!receiving), fingering, begging, filming (security camera), hair pulling, dry humping, body worship, praise kink, use of "baby", "good girl" and "sir"

word count : 3.9k

a/n : i miss danny ric so much guys

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

Y/n's body glistened with sweat as she moved gracefully on the stage, her lithe figure accentuated by the dim lighting of the empty club. The rhythmic beat of the music pulsed through her veins, guiding her movements as she practiced her new routine. Her long, dark hair swayed with each turn, the strands clinging to her skin like a second layer.

Daniel wiped down the bar counter, his eyes occasionally glancing towards the stage where Y/n performed. He couldn't help but admire her dedication and the way her body moved so fluidly, as if she were one with the music. As he finished cleaning, he noticed her looking in his direction, a questioning expression on her face.

"Hey, Daniel!" Y/n called out, her voice carrying across the empty space. "I'm trying out a new routine. Do you think it looks okay?"

Daniel set down his cleaning supplies and took a seat on one of the bar stools, facing the stage. He leaned back, his muscular arms resting on the counter as he watched Y/n intently. "Sure thing, Y/n. Let me see that routine again," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

Y/n's eyes sparkled with anticipation as she nodded, ready to showcase her moves once more. She took a deep breath, centering herself before the music began. Her hips swayed sensually to the beat, her body undulating in a mesmerizing dance. She ran her hands along her curves, accentuating her assets as she moved.

As she danced, Y/n's eyes locked with Daniel's, feeling a surge of energy from his gaze. She could sense his appreciation for her performance, and it fueled her passion, making her movements even more alluring. The music swelled, and she spun around the pole, her long hair whipping through the air as she executed a series of impressive spins and flips.

Y/n gracefully came to a stop, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. She smiled at Daniel, grateful for his attention and feedback. "Thanks for watching, Daniel. I really appreciate it," she said, walking over to the bar.

"No problem, Y/n. You're doing great," Daniel replied, his eyes roaming appreciatively over her form. "I noticed you seemed a bit unsure during that last part. Have you thought about incorporating some audience interaction?"

She leaned against the bar, her elbows resting on the polished surface. "Interaction? Like what?" she asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

"Well, for that particular section, you could give someone a lap dance. It would add an extra layer of excitement to your routine," Daniel suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Y/n's eyes widened slightly at Daniel's suggestion, a blush creeping across her cheeks. "A lap dance? I don't know, Daniel. That seems a bit... risky," she said hesitantly.

"Risky? Or exciting?" Daniel countered, leaning forward with interest. "Think about it. The way you move, the way you command attention... a lap dance would be a perfect fit for your routine."

Y/n bit her lower lip, considering the idea. She had to admit, the thought of giving a lap dance to a willing audience member did send a thrill through her body. "I guess you're right. It could add something special to the performance," she admitted, her voice soft.

"That's the spirit!" Daniel encouraged, his eyes never leaving hers. "Why don't you give it a try? I'll be your willing audience member," he offered with a playful wink.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Oh really? And here I thought you were just being helpful," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Are you sure you're not just using this as an excuse to get a free strip show and lap dance?"

Daniel leaned back, a roguish grin spreading across his face. "Me? Never," he said, his tone light and playful. "I'm simply offering my professional opinion as a bartender and your boss who's seen countless performances."

"Besides," he added, his eyes roaming over her form appreciatively, "I'd pay good money to see you dance like that."

Y/n laughed, shaking her head at his audacity. "You're supposed to be professional, you know that?" Despite her words, there was warmth in her eyes as she looked at him. "Alright, fine. If you're so eager to be my guinea pig, who am I to refuse?"

She sauntered back to the stage, her hips swaying with each step. She turned to face Daniel, a sultry smile on her lips as she began to move to the music. Her hands ran through her hair, tossing it back dramatically as she started to undulate her body to the beat.

Daniel watched intently, his eyes never leaving Y/n as she danced. He could feel the heat building in his body, her movements both alluring and tantalizing. As the music swelled, Y/n approached the edge of the stage, her eyes locked on Daniel's.

With a graceful leap, she landed in front of him, her body mere inches from his. She began to sway her hips, her body moving in a hypnotic rhythm as she slowly backed up, pressing against him. Daniel could feel the heat radiating from her body, her curves pressing against him as she started to grind.

Y/n turned to face Daniel, her back pressed against his chest as she continued to move. She reached behind her, her hands finding Daniel's and guiding them to her waist. She could feel his breath hot on her neck, his body tense with restraint.

"How's this?" she asked breathlessly, her voice husky with desire. "Is this what you had in mind?"

Daniel's hands tightened on her waist, his thumbs tracing small circles on her skin. "It's... perfect," he managed to say, his voice rough with need.

Y/n arched her back, pressing herself closer to Daniel as she continued to grind against him. She could feel his arousal pressing against her, and it sent a thrill through her body. She turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "Is there anything else you think I should add?"

Y/n's breath hitched as she felt Daniel's lips brush against her ear. His voice was low and husky, sending shivers down her spin. "Maybe you should move your hips more," he suggested, his hands sliding down to grip her hips firmly.

Y/n gasped softly, her body arching into Daniel's touch. She began to move her hips more deliberately, grinding against him in a slow, sensual rhythm. Her hands came up to tangle in her hair, tossing it back as she arched her back, pressing her ass against Daniel's growing arousal.

"Like this?" she asked, her voice breathy and filled with desire. She could feel the heat building between them, the air thick with tension and unspoken words.

"Just like that," Daniel replied, his voice strained with effort. His hands tightened on her hips, guiding her movements as she continued to grind against him.

Y/n's movements became more frenzied as she felt Daniel's arousal pressing insistently against her. She could feel the heat building between them, her body responding to his touch with an intensity that surprised her. She ground her hips harder against him, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Fuck, keep moving like that and I'll bend you over the bar," Daniel growled, his control slipping. His hands gripped her hips tighter, pulling her closer as he thrust his hips against her.

She moaned softly, the thought of being bent over the bar sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. She turned her head, her lips brushing against Daniel's as she whispered, "Is that what you want? To fuck me right here on the bar?"

"Yeah," Daniel groaned, his control slipping further with each passing second. "I've thought about it every time I see you dancing. The way you move, the way you look..." His voice trailed off as he pulled Y/n closer, his arousal pressing insistently against her.

"I've wanted to bend you over this bar and fuck you senseless for months," he admitted, his voice husky with desire. "Tell me you want it too, Y/n. Tell me you want me to fuck you right here, right now."

Y/n's breath caught in her throat at Daniel's words, her body trembling with need. She could feel the wetness between her legs, her desire for him overwhelming. "Yes," she breathed, her voice filled with want. "I want it. I want you to fuck me, Daniel. Right here, right now."

With a swift movement, Daniel spun Y/n around, pressing her against the bar. His hands roamed over her body, exploring every curve and dip as he kissed and nipped at her neck. "You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured against her skin. "I've wanted this for so long."

As Daniel continued to kiss and caress Y/n's body, he confessed his deepest desires. "I always think about you, Y/n," he admitted, his voice low and husky. "I imagine what your lips would feel like wrapped around my cock, how good your mouth would be." His hands slipped under her top, his fingers tracing patterns on her bare skin.

"I think about how tight your pussy would be, how it would feel to be inside you," he continued, his arousal evident against her backside. "I've dreamed of this moment for so long."

Y/n moaned softly as she felt Daniel's hand slide under the waistband of her bottoms, his fingers finding her most sensitive spot. She arched her back, pressing herself closer to him as his skilled fingers began to play with her clit. "Oh god, Daniel," she gasped, her body trembling with each touch.

"That feels so good," she moaned, her hips moving in time with Daniel's fingers. She could feel the pleasure building within her, her body responding eagerly to his touch. "Please, don't stop," she begged, her voice filled with need and desire

Daniel's fingers continued their relentless assault on Y/n's clit, occasionally dipping into her wet folds before returning to her sensitive nub. "You're such a good dancer, Y/n," he praised, his voice filled with admiration. "The way you move, the way you command the stage... it's incredible."

His other hand roamed over her body, caressing her curves as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. "You're so beautiful, Y/n. I can't believe I'm finally getting to touch you like this," he murmured, his fingers never ceasing their teasing motions.

Y/n's moans grew louder, her body writhing under Daniel's touch. She could feel the pleasure building within her, her body trembling with anticipation. "Daniel," she gasped, her voice filled with desperation. "I need more. Please, I need you inside me."

Daniel's lips found Y/n's neck, his kisses trailing up to her ear as he whispered, "Be patient, baby. I want to make this last. You're so perfect, and I want to savor every moment with you." His fingers continued their relentless teasing, dipping into her wet folds before returning to her clit.

"You're so responsive, so beautiful," he praised, his voice filled with awe. "I've watched you dance for so long, dreaming of this moment. Let me make it unforgettable for you."

Y/n's body trembled under Daniel's touch, her moans growing louder with each passing second. She could feel the pleasure building within her, her body aching for more. "Please, Daniel," she begged, her voice filled with need. "I want you so badly."

Daniel's fingers moved faster, his touch becoming more intense as he felt Y/n's body tensing beneath him. "Cum for me, baby," he urged, his voice low and husky.

Y/n's body arched as the pleasure reached its peak, her moans echoing through the empty club. Her orgasm crashed over her like a wave, her body shaking with the force of it. Daniel held her close, his fingers never ceasing their teasing motions as he helped her ride out the intense sensations.

As Y/n's orgasm subsided, Daniel began to place gentle kisses down her back, his lips trailing over her skin like a feather. He held her arms behind her back, keeping her bent over the bar as he continued to worship her body with his mouth.

"You're so beautiful, Y/n," he murmured, his voice filled with adoration. "I want to taste every inch of you." His hands roamed over her curves, his touch gentle and reverent.

Y/n's body trembled under Daniel's ministrations, her skin sensitive from the intense pleasure she had just experienced. She could feel the heat building within her once more, her body craving more of his touch. "Please, Sir," she whispered, her voice filled with need. "I want you inside me. I need you."

Daniel's eyes widened in surprise at Y/n's unexpected request. He had never heard her call him "Sir" before, and the sound of it coming from her lips sent a thrill through his body. "Oh, you want to play that game, do you?" he asked, a playful smirk on his face.

He released her arms, his hands moving to the waistband of her shorts. "Alright then, let's see how well you can follow orders," he teased, slowly pulling her shorts down her legs. "First things first, I want you to spread your legs for me. Give me a good view of that pretty pussy of yours."

Y/n's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and excitement at Daniel's command. She had never been spoken to like this before, and the new dynamic between them sent a rush of adrenaline through her body. She obediently spread her legs, exposing her glistening folds to his hungry gaze.

"Good girl," Daniel praised, his voice low and husky. "Now, I want you to reach back and spread yourself open for me. Show me how much you want it."

Y/n's hands trembled slightly as she reached back, her fingers gently parting her lips to reveal her most intimate parts. The cool air against her heated flesh made her shiver, her body aching for Daniel's touch.

"Fuck, you're so wet," Daniel groaned, his eyes roaming over her exposed flesh. "I can't wait to taste you."

Daniel sank to his knees, his face mere inches from Y/n's glistening folds. He inhaled deeply, savoring the intoxicating scent of her arousal. "You smell divine," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin.

Without further hesitation, he leaned in and ran his tongue along her slit, a low moan escaping his lips as he savored her taste. Y/n gasped, her body trembling as Daniel's skilled tongue explored her most sensitive areas. He alternated between long, slow licks and quick, teasing flicks, his hands gripping her hips to keep her steady.

"Oh god, Daniel," Y/n moaned, her voice filled with pleasure. "That feels so good. Don't stop."

Daniel continued his relentless assault on her clit, his tongue circling the sensitive nub as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. He could feel her body tensing, her moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing second.

His tongue delved deeper, exploring her folds and tasting her essence. He could feel her body trembling, her moans growing louder as he brought her closer to the edge. He slipped a finger inside her, curling it to stroke her G-spot as he continued to lick and suck on her clit.

"Oh fuck, Daniel!" Y/n cried out, her body convulsing as the intense pleasure consumed her. Her juices flowed freely, coating Daniel's face as he worked her through her orgasm. He didn't let up, continuing to lick and suck until she was a quivering mess, her legs barely able to support her.

As her orgasm subsided, Daniel stood up, his face glistening with her juices. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss, letting her taste herself on his tongue. "You're so fucking delicious," he growled, his voice filled with desire. "I want to feel you wrapped around my cock."

Daniel took Y/n's wrists in his hands, holding them firmly behind her back as he pressed his body against hers. "I want you to feel every inch of me," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "I want you to remember this moment, the way I make you feel."

He reached down with one hand, freeing his hard cock from the confines of his pants. Y/n could feel the heat of his shaft against her backside, the anticipation building within her as she waited for him to enter her.

"Please, Daniel," she begged, her voice filled with need. "I want you inside me. I need you."

Daniel thrust his hips forward, driving only half of his cock into Y/n's tight heat. She let out a desperate whine, her body aching for more. "Please, Daniel," she begged, her voice filled with need. "I want all of you. Don't tease me."

Her hands gripped the air behind her back, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to find something to hold onto. The sensation of Daniel's cock stretching her, combined with the vulnerability of having her hands restrained, sent a thrill through her body.

"You want more?" Daniel growled, his voice filled with dark promise. "Then beg for it. Show me how much you need me."

Y/n's body trembled with desire, her mind consumed by the need to feel Daniel's cock filling her completely. "Please, Sir," she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need you. I want to feel every inch of you inside me. Please, don't make me wait any longer."

Daniel's hands tightened on Y/n's wrists as he slowly began to pull out, the head of his cock barely kissing her entrance. "I'm not convinced," he said, his voice low and teasing. "You'll have to do better than that if you want me to give you what you need."

Y/n's body tensed, her muscles clenching around his shaft as he withdrew. "No, please!" she cried out, her voice filled with desperation. "Don't stop, Daniel. I need you so badly. I'll do anything, just please, don't take this away from me."

She arched her back, pressing her hips against his, trying to draw him back inside. "I'm sorry for not begging properly," she whimpered, her voice breaking with emotion. "Please, Sir, I'll be a good girl. I'll do whatever you want, just please, let me feel you inside me. I can't take it anymore."

Daniel's heart raced as he listened to Y/n's desperate pleas, her words fueling his desire. He could feel her body trembling against his, her need for him palpable. With a low growl, he thrust his hips forward, driving his entire length into her tight heat.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. He began to move, his hips rocking against hers in a steady rhythm. "Is this what you wanted, baby? Do you like feeling me inside you?"

Y/n's moans grew louder, her body responding eagerly to Daniel's thrusts. "Yes, oh god, yes," she panted, her voice filled with ecstasy. "I love feeling you inside me. Don't stop, please don't stop."

As Daniel's thrusts became more intense, Y/n's moans grew louder, echoing through the empty club. "Fuck, you're so loud," Daniel panted, his voice filled with a mix of arousal and amusement. "At this rate, you'll be heard on the security camera footage."

Y/n's face flushed with embarrassment, but the thought of being caught only heightened her arousal. "I don't care," she gasped, her body writhing under Daniel's touch. "I want everyone to hear how good you make me feel."

Daniel's hands roamed over Y/n's body, his fingers digging into her hips as he continued to thrust into her. "That's right, baby," he growled, his voice low and husky. "Let them hear how much you want me."

He released Y/n's wrists, allowing her to grip the edge of the bar for support. He reached up, gathering her hair in his hands and twisting it into a makeshift ponytail. "I want to see your face when you cum," he murmured, his voice filled with desire. "I want to watch the pleasure wash over you as I make you mine."

He began to thrust harder, his hips slamming against Y/n's backside as he drove into her. The new angle allowed him to hit her G-spot with each stroke, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body.

"Oh god, Daniel," Y/n moaned, her voice raw with emotion. "I'm so close. Don't stop, please don't stop."

Daniel could feel his own release approaching, his body tensing as he fought to hold back. "Cum for me, baby," he commanded, his voice strained with effort.

Y/n's body tensed, her muscles clenching around Daniel's cock as she neared the edge. "I'm cumming!" she cried out, her voice filled with ecstasy. Her orgasm crashed over her like a wave, her body shaking with the force of it.

Daniel continued to thrust, his own release building with each stroke. "Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. "You're so tight, so perfect. I'm going to fill you up, baby. I'm going to make you mine."

With a final, powerful thrust, Daniel buried himself deep inside Y/n, his cock pulsing as he released his seed. He collapsed against her back, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

As Daniel caught his breath, Y/n gently pushed him off, a mischievous glint in her eye. She knelt down, her hands caressing his thighs as she positioned herself between his legs. "I'm not done with you yet," she purred, her voice filled with desire.

Without warning, she took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around his sensitive flesh. Daniel gasped, his hands instinctively reaching for her hair. "Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his voice filled with awe. "You're insatiable."

Y/n continued to work his cock with her mouth, her head bobbing up and down as she took him deeper and deeper. She could feel him growing hard again, his body responding to her touch.

"I want to taste you," she murmured, her voice muffled by his cock. "I want to taste you, too."

Y/n's eyes locked onto Daniel's as she continued to suck him off, her lips gliding along his shaft with practiced ease. Her hand slid between her legs, her fingers finding her sensitive folds and beginning to stroke her clit. The combination of sensations sent a jolt of pleasure through her body, and she could feel some of Daniel's cum spilling out onto the floor.

Her other hand cupped his balls, gently massaging them as she worked his cock with her mouth. She could feel him growing harder, his body responding to her touch. "You like that, don't you?" she purred, her voice filled with desire. "You like watching me pleasure myself while I suck you off."

Daniel's breath hitched, his hips bucking slightly as he felt her fingers exploring her own body. "Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his voice thick with arousal. "You're so sexy. I love watching you touch yourself."

Y/n's fingers continued to explore her folds, her arousal growing with each stroke. She could feel Daniel's cock throbbing in her mouth, his body tensing as he neared the edge once more. She increased her pace, her head bobbing faster as she took him deeper and deeper.

"I'm going to cum again," she moaned, her voice muffled by his cock. "I want you to watch me, Daniel. I want you to see how much you turn me on."

Daniel's hands gripped the edge of the bar, his knuckles turning white with the effort of holding back. "Cum for me, baby," he growled, his voice strained with desire.

Y/n's body tensed, her orgasm building with each stroke of her fingers. She could feel the pleasure mounting, her body trembling with anticipation. With a final, powerful thrust, she pushed Daniel over the edge, his cock pulsing as he released his seed into her mouth.

As Daniel's orgasm subsided, he looked down at Y/n, his eyes filled with admiration. "You're such a good girl," he praised, his voice low and husky. "Swallowing every last drop like that. You're incredible."

taglist

for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore

kinktober taglist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world @lewishamiltonismybf

598 notes · View notes

harmonyrae · 13 days ago

Text

Inked - Part 2

Synopsis: You convinced him to take you on a race, can you handle the consequences? And a trip to Paradise reveals a new layer to the underworld Rafayel is a part of & reveals more about his interesting relationship with Sylus.

Part One

AN: This fanfic was inspired & entirely fueled by the artwork above, done by the amazing @obligatedart - thank you for letting me use your work as the cover art! Go check them out and see the other tattooed Rafayel pieces they’ve done. Comment if you want to be tagged for part 3 or any of my other fics.

Content Warnings: explicit language & sexual content, alcohol consumption, illegal street racing & evading, not-so-safe sex on a motorcycle, gambling, sassy Sylus, mentions of needles (tattoo needles, not medical), genital piercings, semi-public sex (if you squint), dom!Rafayel moments (bless), rough ROUGH, creampie, PiV, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 15k

Now Playing (for club scene): Fuck Around Find Out - Mobiius Alone - Mobiius Smolder - Mobiius

“This should work. Don’t take off the jacket, gloves or helmet unless I say so, okay?”

Rafayel pulls a dark red leather jacket out of your closet. He digs through your dresser drawers and finds a black long sleeve shirt and your thickest pair of jeans, he tosses them on your bed. A pair of padded gloves and a white helmet with cute little light up cat ears sits on your dresser. You shrug your hoodie off and start to unbutton your skirt, Rafayel lays back on your bed and hums.

“Enjoying the show?”

“Well, there’s no music and you’re too far away, so no.”

You shake your head and continue getting changed. Once you have your pants and long sleeve on, you sit to lace up your moto boots. Rafayel shifts to sit behind you, he wraps his legs around you and removes the clip holding your hair up. You turn to reprimand him, but you feel him gather your hair and section it into three sections.

“Are you braiding my hair?”

He doesn’t answer, instead his fingers weave your hair together with ease.

“When did you learn to braid hair?”

“Talia taught me. We would go swimming after I’d get out of school and she’d always get her hair caught in a reef. So she taught me to braid her hair. I got pretty good at it too. She had me do her hair for her wedding.”

“Talia’s married?”

Your high-pitched squeak makes Rafayel laugh. He secures your braid with a hair tie from around his wrist.

“Her husband is very open-minded.”

You lean back against him and he kisses your temple.

“Race starts at 9.”

You get up and zip up your leather jacket. Rafayel helps tighten your gloves and adjusts your helmet. He snaps the visor down and leads you through your living room - which is much too dark with the visor down.

You’re surprised when you see his car parked in the garage. You put your hands on your hips.

“I thought…”

“That I’d bring my racing bike here? No, cutie. That would be silly.”

His mocking sing-song voice makes you growl, you pout - even though he can’t see it - and cross your arms.

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop. Come on, let me show you my lair.”

You can’t stop yourself from giggling.

“You have a lair? Like Batman? You’re – wait, if we weren’t getting on your bike, why am I wearing my helmet already?”

He opens the passenger door and looks back at you, his hand on his hip.

“Cause you’re just so cute with your little kitty ears.”

You open your visor so he can see you dramatically roll your eyes. He places a hand on top of your helmet to make sure you don’t bump your head when you sink into his car.

After driving through downtown for almost half an hour, Rafayel finally takes a back alley and approaches a man dressed in all black with a full face mask. Rafayel slows and nods at the man. As he drives past, Rafayel reaches over and opens the glove box to pull a mask out. He quickly puts it on before turning down another alley that leads to the highway.

After a short drive, you can tell you’ve entered the no hunt zone. The cars that pass by are mostly armored and have tinted windows. The buildings are weathered with bars on the windows. Rafayel pulls up to a tall parking garage and heads to the basement level. You’re surprised to find a large garage door blocking off the lower level. Rafayel presses a button on his dash and the door opens.

Inside, there’s row after row of expensive cars and a smaller selection of motorcycles of every make and model. Rafayel parks his car and hops out. You follow him to a white Kawasaki with dark red side panels and seat covers, the headlights also appear to be tinted red. Rafayel squats down next to the bike and runs his hand over the side panel down to the chain guard. He stands and pulls off his mask, tucking it into his jacket pocket.

“Good as new.”

He walks over to a wall with a huge shelving unit stocked with helmets. He picks up the helmet you saw that night at your apartment, now fully repaired. Rafayel sets the helmet on the seat of his bike and turns to you. With your visor still up, he tracks your eyes to his helmet.

“My team works fast.”

He reaches up and tugs at your helmet, checking the straps. He drops his hands to check your gloves… again.

“You’re nervous.”

He meets your gaze.

“About having you on the back of my bike while I race through the city at breakneck speeds? Nervous doesn’t quite cut it.”

“I’ll be okay. I trust you.”

He sighs and stares at the floor. You reach up and hold his face in your hands. You don’t speak and he rests his forehead against your helmet.

“Am I interrupting?”

Rafayel looks over your shoulder and he squeezes your hands, almost like an involuntary reflex. You start to turn but Rafayel tugs on your hands and you squint. You pull your hand free and turn to face a tall man in leather. You train your eyes over his apparel, black leather pants are tucked into combat boots, a black leather jacket with red and white lightning strikes adorning the sleeves and a fitted turtleneck. When you meet his eyes you gasp. Is this…?

“I don’t believe we’ve properly met. I’m Sylus.”

He extends his gloved hand and you hesitantly take it. Instead of shaking it, he lifts it to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles. You stare at his face, those dark red eyes sparkling behind silver lashes that match his hair. Those lips. You definitely remember them. And his voice…

“I mean we’ve met, but –”

Rafayel steps up beside you, his arms crossed. Sylus lets go of your hand. His devious smirk tells you he is enjoying this introduction. Your cheeks flush and you wish you could close your visor without adding to Sylus’s ego.

“We should probably talk before the rest of the crew gets here.”

Sylus crosses his arms, mirroring Rafayel.

“I assume she knows already?”

Rafayel nods, you notice his cheeks are flushed. Sylus was definitely the man from the party. Sylus… Ryūō… Rafayel knew who he was, that he was his friend, and let him… Oh, you were so forcing him to tell you the full story now.

“She does.”

“And she knows my alias?”

Rafayel nods. Sylus turns to face you.

“And she knows what will happen if that information is… leaked?”

Rafayel steps forward, putting you slightly behind him.

“She does.”

You huff and step up to stand beside both the men, facing both of them.

“She can answer for herself. I’m not going to leak anything. You have enough to worry about with whoever this Onryō person is.”

Sylus tilts his head and gives you a once over. His smile returns.

“Fair enough.”

Rafayel rubs the back of his neck before continuing.

“Onryō probably won’t show up at today’s race, it’s too risky. But they’ll probably be watching. My people are still trying to track them down, whoever they are they’re good at covering their tracks. I’ll update you with any changes.”

Sylus continues to stare at you. You can almost see the gears turning behind his eyes as he forms his opinion of you.

“Your people have two more days before my people get involved.”

Rafayel uncrosses his arms and opens his mouth to say something.

“Rafayel, I already have a bounty on my head and whoever this Onryō prick is, they’re giving the authorities the idea that they can actually catch me. And those cops weren’t traffic cops, they were professionals.”

Rafayel starts pacing, walking slow circles around you and Sylus. He pinches the bridge of his nose, wincing when he realizes he pinched his piercing. He adjusts it before continuing to rub his forehead.

“Do you think Onryō is undercover?”

Sylus shrugs.

“Not sure. Could be. All I know is I’ll probably have to retire Stella.”

“Stella?”

You finally speak up, your brain trying to keep track of all the information.

“He names his bikes.”

“Stella was the bike I drove last week. Now the cops know her make and model, it’s too risky to take her to the shop for a wipe down.”

Rafayel paces around him.

“Fuck…”

“Mephisto’s monitoring the shop. He runs a background check for every client, nothing sus yet.”

Rafayel stops pacing, he turns to face Sylus.

“Did you just say ‘sus’? Like, with all seriousness?”

“Luke and Kieran said ‘sus’ means suspicious.”

“Sylus, you’re too old to say shit like that.”

Sylus glares at Rafayel, which amuses Rafayel greatly.

“You’re one to talk.”

Rafayel raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Mephisto is watching the shop, what about Xavier?”

“Xavier’s in the bunker. He’s been there since the race. He’s being taken care of.”

Rafayel nods. You put your hands on your hips and try to hold your tongue, you’re so lost. Rafayel notices and circles behind you, rubbing your shoulders.

“Xavier is our designer, he creates the tracks and controls the app that we use for races. He also... monitors police frequencies to keep us up to date on any investigations.”

“And Mephisto?”

“A bird.”

“That’s a gross mischaracterization.”

Rafayel laughs and drapes his arm around your shoulder.

“I’m… ha! I’m sorry, but he is a bird. A mechanical bird but still a bird.”

Sylus crosses his arms again and huffs. Rafayel holds his breath, trying to stop laughing.

“Okay, sorry sorry. He’s a huge help, eyes in the sky - literally - which we desperately need right now. You built him, right Sy?”

Sylus nods. You cock your head.

“Two days Rafayel. I’m not waiting any longer than that.”

Rafayel’s smile falls and he stuffs his hand in his pocket.

“Fine. Two days.”

Sylus looks at you once again.

“We should get to know each other better if you’re going to be involved in our… business.”

“She’s not involved Sylus.”

“Of course she’s involved.”

“She certainly is.”

Rafayel and Sylus look at you, both somewhat surprised by your response. You turn to Rafayel, forcing his arm off of your shoulder.

“If it was as simple as trying to stop illegal street racing they wouldn’t have kicked your bike. If this person is trying to hurt you I want to know their motive. So yes, I am involved.”

“So dinner, Sunday. My base. 7 o’clock sound good for everyone? Good. I’ll see you both there.”

With that, Sylus turns and walks away. Rafayel clears his throat and walks back to his bike. You follow, wishing you could remove your helmet and kiss him until that frown vanishes.

“We don’t have to go, he’s just being a pain in the ass as always.”

You walk over and mount his bike, taking the driver seat. He leans down and places a hand on the handlebar and another on the seat behind you.

“Whatcha doin cutie?”

“Getting comfortable for storytime.”

He wrinkles his nose and cocks his head to the side.

“I could always ask Sylus for the story behind that debt he repaid at dinner on Sunday.”

Rafayel’s ears turn bright red and his cheeks soon follow. He shakes his head and drops his eyes to the floor. He’s been avoiding this conversation all week and you’ve let him, with his injury still healing.

“You did say you’d explain later. It’s definitely later.”

Rafayel sighs and leans his head on your shoulder.

“Fine. Yes, Sylus was the guy at the party.”

“The guy who sucked your dick.”

Rafayel lifts his head to glare at you. You chuckle and cover where your mouth would be with your hand, giving him an apologetic look.

“He did do that, yes. The debt was… fuck… okay…”

He straightens and hooks his thumbs in his pockets, trying to look casual while you knew he was boiling alive.

“For the past few years, every time we line up to start a race, Sylus and I will give each other shit. He’ll say something about dusting me or beating my record and I’ll tell him to… ‘suck my dick’ - it became a tradition I guess.”

He stutters and you rest your chin on your fist, leaning against the gas tank in front of you.

“We set up a tournament and we got a little… too competitive. We decided to make a bet and… he said he’d follow through on my…” He raises his fingers to make air quotes. “‘Catch Phrase’ as he referred to it, if I beat him.”

“And you beat him.”

“Yea…”

“And you enjoyed it?”

Rafayel's pupils dilate and you smile - if only he could see it through your damn helmet.

“I’m glad you did. It certainly gave you the motivation to eat me out like a man starved.”

He groans and turns around to start pacing again.

“We should go.”

“To what?”

“Dinner. At his place.”

He spins around, his eyes wide.

“Why?”

“He’s important to you, even if he’s just a rival giving you shit. Sunday is two days away, so you’ll either have an answer about Onryō by then or he’ll send his people out to hunt. I’m sure you’ll want another attempt at trying to convince him otherwise. Am I right?”

Rafayel sighs and nods reluctantly.

“Then we’ll go. Plus it’s funny watching him get under your skin.”

“Rude.”

You poke your elbow into his stomach.

“It’s almost 9.”

You hop off the bike and he takes your place. You hand him his helmet so you can climb on behind him. He secures his helmet and revs the engine before reaching back to pat your leg.

“You ready?”

You close your visor, lean forward and wrap your arms around him.

“Whole new world time?”

Rafayel laughs and closes his visor. He lifts up the kickstand with his heel.

“Come on Princess, let’s ride.”

He carefully weaves his way through the garage and out onto the street. You spot a long line of bikes parked on the sidewalk. Rafayel drives to the front of the line and pulls out his phone.

“It’s my turn to register everyone, so they’ll all drive up in a second.”

The roar of multiple bikes starting up is deafening. They slowly pull off the sidewalk to drive into a line near where Rafayel is parked. A silver bike with light blue headlights approaches first. Two long white braids hang over their shoulders. Their helmet is adorned with delicate snowflakes and lines that look like cracks in ice. A female voice greets Rafayel.

“What’s up Kiko? Yuki onna, 3146.”

Rafayel nods and types something on his phone.

“Oh you know, just hunting down the fuckhead who ruined our last race. Accept?”

She taps her phone that’s mounted to the handlebars of her bike. You hear Rafayel’s phone chime.

“Let me know if you need help with that.”

She pulls off and heads towards the back of the line. You recognize the alias, Yuki onna, snow woman. Her helmet design was much more Elsa than terrifying supernatural spirit, but still very fitting.

The next bike rolls up, the bright purple and pink streaks along the side panels glow in the dark, their pure white headlights are almost too bright. Their helmet painted a dark purple with white lightning strikes spreading out from the visor. The voice that greets you is loud and gritty.

“Kiko, my guy! Since when do you have a backpack? What’s up babe?”

“Raijū…”

Rafayel’s tone is a warning, the biker shifts in his seat and waves his hand.

“I was just playing around. You find the prick who fucked you up?”

Rafayel shakes his head.

“Working on it.”

“They better hope you don’t find them, I’m sure you have something creative planned.”

Your grip around Rafayel’s waist tightens. You feel his hand rub yours.

“What’s your number today?”

“Raijū, 1520.”

Rafayel types on his phone, the biker taps his smartwatch and Rafayel’s phone chimes again. They rev their engine before slowly moving forward.

“Have fun, backpack! Kiko’s a wild one.”

He drives off and takes an alley, which you assume loops around to the back of the line. If you remember correctly, Raijū is a thunder beast. Their legend was fairly vague, but mostly they were considered messengers from the gods. Their messages were mostly in the form of punishing lightning strikes.

You don’t recognize every yokai alias that you hear, but the color choices and helmet designs give you plenty of clues. You try to take mental notes so you can look them up when you get home to see if your guesses were correct.

The final bike in the line approaches and you recognize the leather jacket, the white and red lightning strikes glowing in the darkness. Sylus’s bike is all black with no side panels, the exposed interior a bright chrome. His black helmet had patches of golden scales lined with fire. You assume this is his backup bike since “Stella” had to be retired. Stella probably matched his alias much better.

“And you’re sure you want to ride with him?”

Sylus winks at you, which makes Rafayel huff in response. You laugh and move your arms to rest over Rafayel’s shoulders. Sylus reaches up to close his visor and clicks his phone into its holder below his handlebars.

“What’s your number?”

Rafayel leans back against you and as you rub his chest.

“Ryūō, 7213.”

Sylus taps his phone.

"I would provide my usual taunt, but your response doesn't hold as much power as it once did."

You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing. Sylus is loving how flustered he now makes Rafayel and it shows. Rafayel flips him off and Sylus gives you a casual salute before speeding off to rejoin the line. Rafayel sighs as he continues typing something on his phone.

“What are the numbers?”

Rafayel pauses, turning his head so you can hear him better.

“Confirmation IDs. They sign up on the app and get a number. They’d only have the number if they’re logged into a recognized account.”

“And… what did that guy mean by ‘backpack’?”

Rafayel snorts, he secures his phone to its mount.

“It’s what bikers call their passengers. Well… mostly for special passengers.”

“Special?”

He lifts his visor, looks over his shoulder and winks at you. He turns back around and turns his bike back on, shutting his visor again as he lines his bike up on the street. The other bikers pull up beside him and rev their engines.

“Remember, hands on the tank, don’t lean into or away from the turn, just stay loose and no sudden movements.”

“Got it.”

You give his torso a squeeze and plant your hands on the tank in front of him. He leans forward and settles in. You look over his shoulder and see a countdown on his phone. Taking a deep breath, you watch the other bikers shift back and forth preparing to take off. You spot Sylus slightly behind the line, he leans on his elbows patiently. He gives you a cheeky wave and you spin back around to face forward.

You watch the countdown and take a deep breath. Five… How fast does Rafayel’s bike actually go? Four… Is the whole race in the no hunt zone or does it loop back into the city? Three… Will cops show up? Two… How many times has Rafayel run from the police? One… What if you get caught or crash or…? The sound of a dozen engines drowns your worries - it’s too late to back out now.

How did you end up in one of those “so you’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.” Rafayel’s bike must have cost a fortune - you can’t imagine how many upgrades and illegal modifications it’s had. In a flash you’re speeding down a dimly lit street at 130. You’re suddenly very thankful Rafayel made you wear your thickest leather jacket, the wind alone would freeze you.

You force yourself to take slow, steady breaths and follow Rafayel’s lead. His phone flashes every time he needs to turn. He drives like he’s swimming, his turns smooth, weaving between cars and the other racers seamlessly. You can’t hear anything but Rafayel’s bike engine - it’s somewhat calming.

You hear the faint chirp of sirens and hold your breath. You hear Rafayel’s voice.

“We’re fine, don’t worry.”

You wince, his voice is loud.

“Your helmet has Bluetooth, I connected it before we left.”

You take a deep breath and stretch your hands trying to calm down.

“You can talk back if it helps?”

“Oh… okay.”

Your voice is shakier than you intended.

“Just breathe, we’ll be okay. They’re following, but not chasing just yet.”

“When… will they chase?”

“Most patrol cops can tell when a race is done, they’ll chase the finishers. Big turn.”

You follow his lead and the turn is smooth. You hear the sirens getting closer.

“Do they always wait?”

“Not always. Don’t worry, I’ll pull off if they get too close.”

“How fast are you going now?”

Rafayel laughs. “185.”

“Fucking hell…”

“I can hit 240 but only ever hit that on highway races with long straights. I won’t go over 200 in urban areas.”

You take a look around and see you’re on a backroad. You recognize the area, you’re close to the city now.

“Are we heading back into Linkon?”

“Yep, the race ends at the pier. From there we circle back to a garage downtown for payouts.”

“Payouts?”

“Ahh, right. We gamble with our races. The top three split the pot.”

“Are you winning?”

“I’m in third at the moment. I don’t plan on winning.”

“Why not?!” Rafayel chuckles at your tone. “I want you to win!”

“You’re going to yell at me when I tell you why.”

“Well now you have to tell me.”

“My bike can’t go as fast with two people on it.”

“Oh my god! You’re calling me fat?!” You play up the sarcasm in your voice since he can’t see your face.

“I knew you’d yell at me!”

“I’m not yelling!” You were, in fact, yelling.

“It’s just physics or whatever! I swear I’m not calling you fat!”

You’re not really upset, but hearing him backtrack is just too entertaining. As the race enters the city, Linkon city cops start following the race. The closer you get to the pier the more anxious you get. Rafayel continues to try to keep you calm, but as the sirens get louder you start to wonder what Jenna will say when you get arrested.

“Babe? You with me?”

“Yeah… yes, sorry.”

“It’s okay. Race ends around the corner, when I tell you to, I need you to turn around and tell me if any cops follow us, okay?”

“O-okay.”

“Hold onto me, you’ll be okay.”

The pier comes into view and Rafayel slows as he approaches the finish line. You lift a hand to press against his stomach. You pass under the entrance to the pier and he brakes, his rear tire smokes as it burns out to spin completely around. Cops slam on their brakes and try to back up to turn around and follow, but they’re too slow.

“Now, check now.”

As he speeds down the alleyway, you turn your head and look back, two white sports cars with lights on the dashboard flash speed up behind you.

“Fuck! Two… two ugh… two nice, good, fast…”

“Two pursuit vehicles. How close?”

“On our ass!”

Rafayel snorts and you want to slap him, but you are clinging to him too tightly to even move at the moment. He winds down the city streets carefully, but picks up speed once he hits a long stretch. He takes a turn that leads back to downtown.

“Do you want me to check again?”

“Wait until I make this turn and then check.”

He takes a wide turn cutting into the opposing lanes, you look over your shoulder to see one of the pursuit vehicles lose control and clip the sidewalk. The car tips and the driver overcorrects making him spin out into the bushes, a tree stops the car completely and the sirens wail cuts out. Guilt hits you like a truck and you pinch your eyes closed.

“One of them crashed…”

“Okay, easy, we’ll be out in a sec.”

You keep your eyes closed and wrap your arms around Rafayel, gripping your wrists around his waist until your hands nearly go numb. All you can see is that cop crashing into the tree. The bike wiggles beneath you and Rafayel’s hand squeezes your leg.

“Babe, babe! Talk to me!”

You let out a shaky breath and gasp for air, you didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until that moment. When you open your eyes your vision is spotty. White spots cloud your vision and you let out a quiet sob.

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay. We’re almost out. Talk to me baby, please.”

“They crashed…”

Rafayel takes a sharp turn and you nearly slip off the seat. The alleyway is too narrow for the other pursuit vehicle to follow. When Rafayel reaches the other side, he revs his engine and zooms down backstreets until he hits the highway. You glance over your shoulder and there’s no cops in sight.

A few minutes later, Rafayel pulls up to a garage and honks twice. When the door opens and you see several of the bikes you saw earlier parked inside. All the racers still have their helmets on and are huddled in small groups. Rafayel drives inside and parks, he hops off and pulls up his visor.

“Hey, look at me.” He grabs your helmet and pushes your visor up. The lights of the garage burn your eyes and you squint. Your eyes water as they adjust.

“Babe, hey, the cop is okay.”

“How do you know?”

“I took that corner super slow. I banked on the cop slamming the brakes and skidding into the grass. If anything, they’ll have some bruises, but they’ll be fine.”

You close your eyes and feel tears trickle down your cheeks, you quickly wipe them away and square your shoulders.

“I’m not crying, the lights, m’eyes are just sensitive.”

Rafayel hugs you, his hands glide over your back.

“I should have warned you about the possibility of how a chase could go… I’m sorry…”

“No. I knew the risks. It was just a reality check, you know?”

You look up to see two bikers approach. Rafayel snaps his visor shut before turning around. He grabs his phone off its mount and stares at the screen.

“Okay, Raijū you were third, Shinigami you were first and where’s Ryūō?”

A tall individual in a dark red jacket leans forward, their helmet is a dark grey with splattered red paint and two red devil horns fixed to the top. You’re surprised by the voice of the individual, its pitch unnatural and distorted.

“He got a call, he’s out back.”

Rafayel nods and taps on his phone two times. Two chimes ring out and the bikers check their phones before turning to leave. Raijū flips his visor up to wink at you and then skips back to his bike before Rafayel can shove him.

“How much did they make?”

Rafayel looks at his phone, scrolling slowly.

“13 racers, $25k to join, so the total was $325k. First gets 60 percent, second and third each get 20. So… Shinigami got $195k, Ryūō and Raijū each got $65k.”

You audibly gasp. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen $65k let alone over $100k. Rafayel chuckles and mounts his bike once more.

“Everyone here is an adrenaline junkie. Gambling ups the stakes.”

“Wait, so you lost $25k? Because of me?”

Rafayel turns on his bike and turns to watch his fellow racers leave the garage before driving through to the back door where Sylus’s bike is parked.

“I told you, I didn’t plan on winning tonight. It was just about the experience.”

You lean back and cross your arms as Rafayel gets off his bike and unhooks the straps of his helmet. He sets his helmet on his seat and offers his hand to help you hop off. You let out a dramatic sigh and take the hand offered to you.

Rafayel wraps an arm around your waist and pulls out the fabric mask from his pocket and puts it on before opening the back door and slipping outside. Sylus leans against the brick wall, his phone pressed to his ear. His helmet tucked under his arm. As you approach you hear the tail end of his conversation.

“Fuck no, kick them out if they’re harassing my girls. Take down their names and have Mike drag them out. Give the girls the rest of the night off. Paid, of course... I’ll call after closing.”

He hangs up and smiles, a stark contrast to the anger burning behind his eyes.

“Trouble in Paradise?”

Sylus chuckles as he rubs his forehead.

“Just some drunk idiots harassing my staff.”

“Paradise is his club, by the way.”

Rafayel squeezes your hip and you hum in response.

“I saw my winnings come through, I assume everyone left?”

Rafayel nods. You lean against him and try to imagine Sylus in a club, he just doesn’t seem like the club type. You start to imagine what kind of club he might own and then an idea hits you.

“Wait, you own a club.”

A teasing smirk spreads across his lips.

“Yes, I do. Would you like to join me sometime?”

You feel Rafayel bristle and hold you tighter.

“No no, you own a club, why not use it? For you know, tracking down Onryō? I assume you both have the connections to get the word out there to… certain people… and if Onryō knows you’ll both be there they might show up.”

He takes a step toward you.

“That… is a great idea, sweetie.”

Rafayel spins you around and walks you back to the door to the garage.

“Yea, brilliant idea, let us know when it’s planned and we’ll be there, yea?”

You hear Sylus chuckle behind you before Rafayel rushes you back into the garage. Without his helmet, you can see his ears turning red. You’re starting to suspect that is not only a sign of him being turned on but also of him being jealous. Possibly both given his and Sylus’ interesting relationship dynamic.

You watch him shove his helmet back on and adjust the straps. You wrap your arms around his chest, trapping his arms to his sides.

“Are you…?”

“Am I what?”

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

He wiggles against your grasp and you giggle in response. He starts to lean back and you struggle to keep standing.

“You’re cute when you think I’m cute.”

You finally release him and he turns to face you.

“It is a good idea by the way. An event like that will draw a crowd of all the wrong people, especially if they know Sylus and I will be there.”

You hold onto his hips as he reaches up to hold the chin of your helmet.

“Then let’s focus on the event. Sunday’s dinner will be the perfect opportunity to help Sylus plan!”

Rafayel groans and bangs his helmet against yours. He turns to mount his bike and you follow suit.

“I’m in charge of music!”

Rafayel nods and you pull out your phone to sync up the Bluetooth in your helmets. He zips out of the garage and down an alleyway.

After switching back to his street bike, Rafayel takes his time driving back to his apartment. The streets were unusually quiet after the night you’ve had. You rest your head against his back, reliving the thrill.

The next song on your playlist is raunchy, and before you could think up an excuse you feel Rafayel’s chest shake with a laugh. You let out a deep sigh, he’s extra cocky tonight and it’s driving you insane. An idea pops into your head and you smile, thankful your helmet hides your intentions.

Your hands glide over his stomach. You let them drift further and further down, until your fingertips brush against the zipper on his jeans.

“Patience, cutie. We’ll be home soon.”

You giggle, letting him feel the subtle shake of your chest against his back. The adrenaline you’d felt during the race had finally worn off, its replacement was much more… carnal. Patience was the last thing on your mind.

You tuck your hands under his crotch and rub against his already hard cock. You feel Rafayel take a sharp breath. His hands gripping the handles tightly. He slows down slightly, but you don’t. You squeeze your hand as you cup him, you can feel his piercing and you rub your thumb over it with more force than necessary. He leans forward, trying to pinch your fingers and get you to let go, but you just squeeze him a little harder.

“Cutie…” You swear his voice dropped an octave. “I’ll have to punish you for this little stunt…”

You tug his shirt up and run a hand up his abdomen. His muscles tense at your touch. His breathing turns ragged and he grasps your hand through his shirt.

“Come on Raf… hot and bothered looks so good on you…”

You feel his cock twitch against your hand and you roll your body against his back. He returns his hand to the handle and revs the engine, speeding up and blasting his way down back alleys to avoid stop lights.

You rub him faster and run your nails across his abs. He turns down the road leading to his studio and the sudden burst of speed up the hill pushes the bike up onto the back tire. You tighten your grip around his waist and slow your massage, your heartbeat pounds in your ears - what song is even playing right now?

You’re barely inside the private garage behind the studio before he is dismounting and tossing his helmet to the ground. He swiftly turns and starts tugging at the straps of your helmet. As soon as your helmet is off, he lifts you off of his bike and your bodies collide. The concept of patience is long forgotten as he slots his mouth over yours.

“Now how will I punish my precious angel for not being able to control her hands?”

You start undoing his belt when he grabs your hands and you tilt your head, looking up at him.

“Oh no no no… You first, I insist.”

His lips curve into a smug smile and before your stubborn nature makes you leave him high and dry, you reach up and pull him to you. You press yourself against him as your lips fight for dominance. You’re needy and don’t give a fuck, you want everything he has to give you tonight.

He bends his knees and lifts you by the backs of your thighs and you wrap your legs around him. You expect to be taken up the stairs to his apartment, but instead your ass meets the seat directly behind you. You gasp in surprise and your eyes fly open, breaking the kiss to look down. He’s put you back on his bike? You smile and lean into the kisses he’s started placing along your collarbone.

Rafayel pulls your jacket off and drops it to the floor before lifting your shirt over your head. He takes a deep breath as his eyes rake over your chest, your lace bra hiding nothing from him. He dips his head down to press his lips over your covered nipples, making your back arch. You push at his jacket and he leans back to tug it off and drop it next to yours. He pulls his t-shirt over his head before returning to worship your body.

His mouth meets yours again and he lifts a hand to tug your bottom lip down with his thumb, his tongue sliding into your mouth in an instant. You moan as he begins rocking his hips against you. He undoes your belt and tucks his hands under your ass to help you stand to peel your pants down your legs. His fingers trace the delicate patterns of your lace panties, his breath hot against your neck.

Before he can literally tear your panties off of your body, you stop him. With your fingers locked behind his neck, all he can do is stare at you. His cheeks are flushed and sweat drips down his chest. One thing you loved the most about Rafayel, his eyes would sparkle when he was lost in the heat of the moment. The pink hue would finally overpower the deep blue and it was like you were walking on a pink sand beach, warm and at peace.

You reach up and gently stroke his cheeks, he leans into your touch. You place a soft kiss to his lips and you feel him shudder. His eyes open looking more blurred and unfocused than before.

You let him go to pull the straps of your bra down your arms and pull it over your head. Rafayel’s eyes instantly clear as he stares at your body. You reach down and take one of his hands, lifting it to glide over your stomach and over the swell of your breast. You release his hand once he starts kneading your sensitive flesh on his own. You whisper his name and his eyes snap to yours.

“Fuck me on your motorcycle…”

His chest caves and he stands up straight, hooking his fingers on the hem of your panties to yank them down. He plants his hands on your waist, lifting you and sitting your bare ass on the seat of his motorcycle. He whips off his belt, watching you spread your legs further. You extend your hand, pulling him forward by the belt loops. You reach around him and quickly squeeze his ass. He winces and glares at you. You’re about to laugh when he takes hold of your braid and tips your head back. He leans down and hovers his lips over yours.

“Bad girl…”

If his kiss is your punishment for squeezing his ass, you’ll be doing it a lot more often. He doesn’t stop you from pushing his pants down over his hips. He removes the hair band from the end of your braid and gently combs through your hair with his fingers. You reach down to take hold of his leaking cock, rubbing your thumb over his swollen tip. He steps closer so you can align him and you drag his cock over your slick cunt. He presses himself into your slowly, too slowly. You plant your hands on his hip and pull him forward, taking him all at once. He groans, throwing his head back. You let out a breath and rest your head against his chest as you adjust and let the pain melt into an intense pleasure.

“Fuck… I need… I need to move, baby… hold onto me.”

You glide your hands up his chest to circle around his neck. You watch his eyes roll back before he pulls back to thrust. You start rolling your hips, driving yourself crazy with the friction of his piercing against your clit. You close your eyes and lean your head back, letting Rafayel find his rhythm. You run your hand through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. He holds his breath as he watches you, sweat glistening across your chest, your eyes closed, your lips swollen, your ragged voice moaning his name - losing yourself to the pleasure he’s bringing you.

He grips the center of the handle bar and holds you against him as his thrusts become more intense. The motorcycle sways, your arousal dripping down onto the seat is making it hard for you to remain still. You wrap your legs around him again to avoid slipping off.

You finally open your eyes and bring your hands to cradle his face, placing kisses along his jaw. He lets out a breathy moan and whispers your name over and over. You silence him with a kiss and his fingertips dig into your back.

You roll your hips one last time, meeting his most brutal thrust yet. You almost black out at the intense pain and pleasure of it all. He was so deep, his hips hitting yours so harshly you’re sure you’ll have bruises forming before he even pulls out. The muscles in your stomach tighten and when you can’t take a deep breath you know you’re done for. You scream his name as your climaxes hit at the same time. Rafayel whimpering against your neck as you claw at his chest.

He rests his hands on the seat, his thumbs brushing against your thighs as his cock softens inside you. You make no move to drop your legs from his waist, not yet. You kiss the tip of his nose and he rests his forehead against yours. He looks down at his motorcycle and chuckles.

“Now how do I explain this to my detailing team?”

You laugh with him, finally letting him slip out and lift you off of his bike. He bends to pick you up bridal style and carries you up the stairs to his apartment. You nuzzle your head into his neck and sigh.

“Just tell them you had the ride of your life.”

“This is how I die, isn’t it? This is it. It was a great run.”

You can barely hear Rafayel under the pile of clothes you stacked on top of him. He’s the one who decided to lay down on your bed while you tried on outfits for the event at Sylus’s club. He knew the risks. You had nearly gone through every article of clothing in your closet and you were getting desperate. Nothing felt right. And of course work got busy as soon as the date was set and you couldn’t go shopping like you planned.

“Stop being dramatic! Fuck, I have nothing to wear.”

“I beg to differ.”

Rafayel sticks his hand through the pile on top of him and wags his finger at you. You start shoving your clothes off of the bed, freeing Rafayel from his prison. He sits up and dramatically gasps for air. You flop down on the bed and cover your face.

“I just don’t feel comfortable in any of my clothes right now. I’ve gained weight, Tara is borrowing my favorite dress for her vacation with Jeremiah and I’m starting to think my body type is not good for dresses.”

Rafayel pulls you on top of him and you squeal, he holds you close and nuzzles his face into your hair. You stop struggling and relax in his warm embrace.

“You’ll look amazing in whatever you choose. Your body is perfect and it’s definitely the type for dresses.”

You frown and try to look up at him.

“The event starts in 3 hours… we should be getting ready.” Rafayel hums and slowly rubs your arms. You wiggle against his grasp, but he only holds you tighter. You whine and he laughs, giving the top of your head a soft kiss.

“Okay okay, I’m sorry. How about I pick out your outfit for you? It’ll be a surprise.”

Rafayel releases you and you sit up.

“You sure?”

He nods and you shrug before standing to head into the bathroom.

You drag your fingers along your lash line to smear your eyeliner and mascara, adding black shadow to create a smoked out wing. After redrawing your eyeliner with precision and adding a small set of wispy false lashes, you feel more club-appropriate. The hot rollers in your hair were cool to the touch by the time you finished touching up your makeup, the curls were tight and bouncy - you knew they’d fall into loose waves by the end of the night. With a final flick of your lip gloss wand, you head back into your bedroom.

Rafayel stands beside your bed, he changed into the suit he brought with him and you nearly tripped over your own feet. His fitted black suit pants tucked into his worn boots. The sleeves of the matching suit jacket were rolled up over his elbows with a simple black button up left untucked and mostly unbuttoned underneath. The undone red bow tie around his neck was a surprising touch, the color complimented his tattoos nicely. He looked incredible and you suddenly became very aware you were still in your pajamas.

“Damn. You clean up nice.”

“Thanks, cutie. You look ready to go, let’s head out, yea?”

You glare at him, his cheeky smirk making your heart flutter. You put your hands on your hips and he finally steps aside to reveal the outfit he selected laid out on your bed for you.

Surprisingly, it was a relatively simple ensemble. Wide leg, high waisted dark gray trousers, sleek black stilettos and a fitted leather jacket. You walk over and pick up the jacket, looking for a shirt and hold up a scarf you forgot you have.

“Where’s the shirt?”

“You’re looking at it.”

You stare at the scarf in your hand. The rich emerald green was definitely a good color option and the golden thread woven throughout sparkled in the light. But how on earth is this your top?

“You said you didn’t like anything you have, so let’s make something new.”

You drop the scarf on your bed and cross your arms. Rafayel picks up the scarf and swings it over his head to settle around his neck.

“Do you trust me?”

You nod sheepishly. He tugs on your baggie t-shirt urging you to change. You carefully pull your shirt over your head, making sure your hair isn’t touched. As you pull the trousers up, Rafayel steps forward to adjust the belt, twisting it to accentuate your waist before securing the buckle. You hand the necklaces he laid out for you to him and turn around. His fingers graze your skin gently as he hooks them together around your neck.

You shudder when his fingers slide along the back of your bra, pausing over the clasp. His lips press against the skin of your neck as he swiftly unhooks the clasp and pulls away from your body. You lean back against him and hold your breath as his hand sweeps your hair over your shoulder. He removes the scarf from around his neck and centers it across your back. He wraps the fabric under your arms and crosses it over your chest. He ties it behind your neck and slowly turns you around.

He adjusts the scarf over your breasts and shivers spread across your skin when his fingers brush over your nipples. You watch him smirk and try to move away, he grabs your waist suddenly and pulls you into a kiss. His lashes tickle your cheeks and you giggle against his lips. He steps back and smiles at you. Your giggles turn to a full belly laugh and you wipe your finger over Rafayel’s lipstick stained lips. He kisses your fingers before reaching out to free your necklaces from under your makeshift top.

Looking in the mirror you are shocked at how effortlessly Rafayel made a simple scarf into a beautiful top. The necklaces sit neatly in the folds around your neck and make the golden threading more prominent.

“So fucking beautiful.”

Your cheeks flush and you try to distract yourself by fixing your lipstick. He grabs your jacket and guides your arms through the sleeves. He surprises you when he kneels beside your bed and lifts a hand. You approach slowly, unsure what he’s up to. He picks up one of the heels off your bed and points to your foot. You lift your foot and his hand circles your ankle. He slides the heel on and sets your foot down, reaching for the other shoe and waiting for you to lift your other foot. He repeats the action, but kisses the top of your foot before setting it down.

“Ready?”

You’re actually speechless. All he did was help you get dressed and here you are barely keeping it together. He stands and offers his arm and you take it, your body buzzing with anticipation for what the night will hold.

He brought a different car tonight, you’re not a car girl but you recognize the bright red Ferrari Enzo. Rafayel had done a spread in a tattoo magazine and posed with it on the cover. He opens the door for you and helps you in. He climbs in and the engine roars to life, its gritty rumble makes your chest shake. You instinctively reach out and grab Rafayel’s hand that’s resting on the gear shift. He links his fingers with yours and rests your joined hands on his thigh as he takes off.

The drive to the club was quiet, the street lights only ribbons passing by. Rafayel gives you the rundown regarding Sylus’s club, Paradise.

“He has a shit ton of security, all well trained. Even his dancers and waitresses are trained in self-defense, he requires it. We both have people working the floor so we’ll stay in the VIP section with him, okay?”

You nod and give his hand a squeeze.

“You good?”

You nod again, distracted by the flashing red lights a few streets in front of you.

“We’re here.”

Rafayel pulls into the lot where the lights originate and you gasp. The building is huge, at least four stories, the black brick splattered with dripping red paint. Massive stained glass windows, which probably stand two stories tall, glow with the pulsing lights from inside the club. If you didn’t know better you’d think this was a cathedral, even spotting gargoyles lining the side of the building.

The long red carpet is packed with club goers and two burley bouncers stand at the entrance. The valet greets Rafayel and you barely register that your door is being opened. You hold onto Rafayel as he saunters to the front of the line.

You feel the glares of those waiting and you try your best to ignore their twinge of anxiety forming at the back of your throat. Sudden flashes take you by surprise and one of the bouncers shoves a photographer back to usher you and Rafayel into the building. Once inside, you can’t hear anything but the rhythm of dark and bassy club anthems.

Inside, you are conflicted yet again, this place had to be a church beforehand. With the stained glass windows, ribbed vaulting line the ceiling, every doorway has a pointed arch, two prominent aisles lined with pillars block off sitting areas and where the altar would be a huge DJ station sits. A large curved bar seems to have taken residence in the ambulatory circling around the raised DJ station. Red and purple lights drown the space and glints of gold catch your eye - sconces, lanterns, any metal detailing is glimmering like an ancient treasure.

Rafayel leads you through a side door, leaving the chaotic sanctuary behind. The music softens slightly in the narrow stone stairwell. You follow behind him and find yourself in the gallery, over the railing you see the dancers sway to the music and gather around waiters to take shots or glasses of champagne. Then you are walking directly next to the massive stained glass windows. The artwork doesn’t depict the typical Biblical imagery, instead images of mythical beings are painted in vibrant hues. A gorgeous Pegasus with skeletal wings flies next to a dark red dragon. Another window holds the image of a minotaur fighting a sphinx, claws and horns clash in a brutal scene. The final window you pass you see a spectacular ocean and sky standing side by side. A phoenix soaring through the sky while a mermaid glides through the water, mirroring each other's movement in their own element.

You hear Rafayel speaking with another guard and you’re pulled through an ornate door. On the other side, there’s small corner booths and standing tables scattered around. A private bar sits at the back of the room, the bartender wearing a mask with black feathers serves a couple leaning against the bar. A large balcony overlooks the club, many VIPs sip their drinks while watching the dancers below.

You spot a familiar silhouette. Sylus stands at the center of the balcony, his white hair tinted red under the light. Rafayel approaches, he holds your hand tightly and you squeeze, trying to reassure him you’re okay. Sylus turns, the head of his dragon tattoo peeks out from behind his unbuttoned dress shirt. With his dark suit jacket hanging off his shoulders he looks ready to take flight. He locks eyes with you, something dark stirs behind those ruby eyes. But as quickly as you register the look it vanishes, replaced with his usual swagger.

“Welcome to Paradise.”

You chuckle and graciously take a glass of champagne from the waiter that approaches you and Rafayel, who also takes a glass. You raise the glass to Sylus.

“It’s certainly not what I expected, but it is beautiful.”

Sylus smiles as he lifts his glass to his lips, he downs the dark amber liquid in one go and sets it on the waiter's tray. The waiter instantly turns to leave and Sylus steps closer.

“My people are tracking two right now. They won’t act, it’d be a death sentence. Regardless, keep your eyes open. And most importantly…”

He offers his hand to you and you hesitate for a moment before accepting. He lifts your hand to his mouth, his soft lips press against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Rafayel releases your hand and tucks his arm around your waist. You can feel Sylus’s breath against your skin as he laughs. He lets you go and takes a step back.

“Enjoy the night. I’ll be around. Just say my name and I’ll be there.”

“Like a ghost?” You joke.

“Like an angel.” He says with a wink.

“More like a devil.” Rafayel mutters through gritted teeth.

Sylus lets out another breathy laugh. He pats Rafayel on the shoulder before sauntering away, leaving the VIP section.

“Madam, would you like your jacket checked?”

The waiter reappears and offers his hand to take your jacket. You shrug it off your shoulder and hand it to him.

“Yes, thank you!”

He nods and disappears to hang up your jacket. Rafayel kisses your shoulder. You lean against him and sip your champagne.

“Was this place a church?”

Rafayel leads you closer to the balcony and you look down at the crowd. You can see the whole bar, the DJ stand, the general sitting area - every corner is packed with people.

“No, actually. Sylus had it built specifically to look like this. Hired an architect with a specialty in historical design and commissioned me to do the stained glass.”

“You designed the windows?”

He nods, craning his neck to look at the three windows above the DJ stand. The most prominent windows serve as the artistic centerpiece for the club, each window intricately designed featuring three creatures. The first appears to be a knight in golden armor surrounded by planets and stars. The knight fights against chains wrapped around its neck, raising a glowing sword poised to strike. The second a dark dragon, similar to the one you saw during your walk through the gallery. However, this one has what appears to be a massive hole in its chest where its heart should be. And the third is a merman, or maybe a siren. Its powerful tail wrapped around a broken ship mast, the sails torn and floating in bloody waves behind him.

“They’re kind of tragic… Amazing, but… tragic.”

Rafayel stares at the windows, his hand falling from your waist to rest on the railing of the balcony. You place your hand over his and watch him for a moment. A pained expression crosses his face. He looks at the ground and shuffles his feet.

“Do you wanna know why Sylus named this place Paradise?”

You lean against the railing and nod.

“He told me ‘even monsters deserve a paradise.’”

“I don’t understand…”

He turns to face you, the moonlight filtered through the stained glass glows around his figure.

“Ever heard the saying ‘you’re the villain in someone’s story’?” You nod. “It’s kind of like that. Sometimes you’re the monster and you don’t want to be. But sometimes you do… want to be. Here, it doesn’t matter.”

He takes your hand and pulls you to him. His hips start to sway to the music and you bite your lip. He spins you around and holds your waist to dip you back. Once he brings you upright, you turn around and press your back against his chest. You mirror his movements, swaying your hips to the beat. He brings his hips forward and you grind your ass against his groin. He rests his hands on the front of your hips and dips his head down to kiss your shoulder.

The beat quickens and your hips follow suit. You hear him groan softly in your ear and you reach your arm back to play with the soft curls that trail down the nape of his neck. You lean your head back on his shoulder and close your eyes. The music swells and the images from the windows flash through your mind. The golden knight, the dragon, the siren. Monsters to some, beautiful and regal to others. For a moment, you imagine them in this place, safe and free.

“Do you want to see something?”

Rafayel’s voice breaks through the vision and you nod breathlessly. He takes your hand and you follow him through the ornate door, through the gallery and down the stairwell. At the base of the stairwell there is another door. A thumbpad above the handle suggests it’s most likely for staff. Rafayel places his thumb down and the pad glows green, the door clicks open. He looks over his shoulder at you.

“Perks of knowing the owner.”

You follow him through the door and down a dark staircase, the door locking behind you. Fluorescent lights flicker as you descend deeper beneath the club. You are pulled through another door and gawk at just how massive this underground level is. Large round tables sit in each corner of the room, a circular bar at the center.

Waitresses saunter around the room serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres to the patrons seated at the tables. From the entrance you can see playing cards laid out and it clicks. You’re in an underground poker den. You spot Sylus at one of the tables leaning back in his chair while he swirls the drink in his glass. Rafayel holds your hand as you approach Sylus’s table. Sylus smiles when he sees you approaching.

“Welcome to The Abyss.”

Sylus stands and taps the shoulder of the man sitting next to him, he stands, places his cards down and walks to another table. Sylus pulls the chair back, motioning for you to take it. You hear Rafayel sigh and give his hand a squeeze. You sit down and you turn to see Rafayel place his hands on the shoulders of the stranger beside you. He tenses before tossing his cards down and quickly leaving the table. Rafayel is about to sit down when his phone rings. When he checks the screen, he gives you an apologetic look.

“I have to take this, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

You nod and he walks to the bar before answering his phone. You’re curious why he had to walk away, but you’ll ask him later. You turn to face Sylus to find him staring at you. You lean back and meet his gaze, completely unaware of how the game at the table has stalled.

“So, The Abyss?”

“Seemed fitting since so many people get swept away with greed or ill intentions when they’re down here.”

You laugh and lean towards him.

“I imagine it’s pretty easy to lose yourself when booze and Billie Holiday are involved.”

His face lights up when you recognize the artist, a genuine smile replacing his sarcastic smirk.

“This album is one of my favorites.”

“Lady in Satin, nice choice.”

Sylus’s smile widens further and he rests his hand on the back of your chair. He’s failing to hide how giddy he is, and you’re excited to see this side of him.

“Not many people recognize the classics, I’m impressed.”

You smile and poke his chest.

“You’re not the only one with good taste. Rafayel told me you had this place built to look… like this… You hired a specialist in historical architecture?”

“I did and it was worth every penny. Do you think it’s offensive?”

You shake your head, leaning your elbow on the table and resting your chin on your hand.

“If anything, I think it’s interesting. I’ve never been to a nightclub in a cathedral before. Now I can say I have.”

A waitress places a martini in front of you, taking you by surprise. You nod at her as she walks away before picking up the glass. Sylus reaches out and takes the cocktail pick out of your drink. He eats your olive and winks at you. You push your lip out in a dramatic pout.

“How dare you, I wanted that!”

Sylus waves the cocktail pick at the waitress and you look over to watch her prepare something behind the counter. Rafayel leans against the bar nearby and shoots you a smile before mouthing a quick “sorry” and continuing his call. The waitress exits the bar and you spot a small bowl of olives on her tray.

“Sylus! I didn’t need –”

“While you’re here, you’ll get whatever you want, kitten.”

The nickname takes you by surprise and you cross your arms. The waitress sets the bowl down beside you and pats your shoulder.

“Don’t worry darlin’, he does this all the time. I had this ready before I brought your drink over.”

Sylus chuckles and the waitress pats your shoulder again before heading back to the bar. You teasingly punch Sylus’s arm.

“How did she know?”

“Aubrey is very perceptive. Is there anything else you’d like? Just tell me.”

“Tell him what?”

Rafayel’s voice surprises you, his hand rests on your shoulder as he sits. You shift in your seat and take a sip of your martini. You pucker your lips and reach for an olive, the saltiness hits the spot and you sigh. You drop another olive in the glass.

“Start a new game, deal these two in.”

You stare at Sylus.

“I doubt I can afford the buy in.”

Sylus tilts his head and looks past you at Rafayel. You turn to see he’s already pressed his card to the panel in front of you, buying you in for $10k in chips. You slap his hand.

“Rafayel!”

He presses his card to the panel in front of him and buys into the game himself.

“Relax cutie, just beat me and you can pay me back.”

Oh. The alcohol coursing through your veins gives you the courage you need to keep a straight face. This will be fun. You pick at your fingernails in your lap and shrug your shoulders.

“Fine… fine. I’m already bought in, might as well try. But I don’t care about money. If I somehow win, I want something.”

Sylus leans forward, intrigued. Rafayel nods and hangs his arm over the back of the chair waiting for you to make your bet.

“If I win I get to… give you a tattoo.”

Rafayel’s brows shoot up and Sylus laughs loudly.

“A tattoo? Really?”

You nod and finish off your drink. Sylus lifts a finger towards the bar and the waitress begins to prepare another drink for you.

“What do I get if I win?”

Rafayel leans closer, his fingers gliding along your arm making goosebumps rise.

“What do you want?”

Rafayel’s expression darkens and he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“I’ve always wanted to try photography… but I need a model.”

You feel your cheeks flush, the implications clear when he drops his hand to your thigh. You narrow your eyes and flash a smile. You’re almost tempted to throw the game now.

“Okay. Deal.”

He extends his hand and you shake it firmly. Sylus nods at the dealer and they begin passing out cards. You hold your breath and pray for a decent hand. You’ll bluff your way to victory if all else fails.

The cards slide across the table into a neat stack in front of you. You place your hand over your cards and carefully lift the corners to check. Jack of Hearts and King of Hearts, decent. It’s time to overreact, Rafayel doesn’t know you spent almost every lunch period in school playing poker with your best friend. Caleb never let you win, he forced you to improve your skills and when you finally beat him the satisfaction made up for every loss.

“The game is Texas Hold ‘Em, no limits. Place your bets.”

The first two men fold and Sylus tosses two chips to the center of the table. You tap your fingers on your cards, trying to appear thoughtful. You pick up two chips and toss them in.

“Call.”

Rafayel follows suit and the dealer flips the first card. A Jack of Clubs. A two or three pair is possible, if you are willing to risk it. The dealer looks at Sylus, who hasn’t stopped staring at you. You can feel his heated gaze and your ear burns. He tosses another two chips in, has he even looked at his cards? You call as does Rafayel.

Another card is revealed, a King of Spades. A two pair, it was something to stand on. The final card would determine if you needed to put on an act or just sit back and enjoy your win. Sylus tosses five chips in and you purposefully roll your shoulders, trying to appear tense, as if the bet was getting a little too high.

You call and turn to face Rafayel, scanning his face for any signs of a tell. He’s all smiles as he taps the center of his forehead with his index finger, considering the bet. He pushes his remaining chips to the center of the table.

“All in.”

You raise a brow, allowing him to see your surprise, but not revel in it. You look over at Sylus who is finally taking a look at his cards. You doubt he will have any tells but you examine him anyway. The way his brows furrow, his chin tilts up and he drags his finger along the edge of the cards. You get the feeling he doesn’t care about the money, he just wants to see how your bet with Rafayel plays out. You’re still considering his motives when he pushes his chips towards the pile.

“Call.”

Both men stare at you now. Was this hand worth it? Is this what Sylus meant by losing oneself to greed? Wanting to win so badly you’ll risk it all? You close your eyes, letting the muscles in your face relax.

“Call.”

Rafayel chuckles quietly as you push your chips to the center. The dealer turns over the final card and you hold your breath. A fucking Jack of Diamonds. You have a Full House. There was no sequential order to the cards so they couldn’t have Four of a Kind since you had a King card yourself. Best they could do is a three pair… You won. You finally lift your eyes and peek at your cards again, looking “concerned.”

“Showdown.”

The dealer leans onto the table to watch the reveal. Sylus flips his first, an Ace of Clubs and an Ace of Diamonds. A Two Pair wasn’t bad, especially if you and Rafayel were bluffing. Sylus leans back and crosses his legs, bringing his glass to his lips and sipping slowly.

You look at Rafayel, he’s tapping his forehead with his finger again, his smile flashing the gem adhered to his tooth.

“Last chance cutie. Say the word and maybe I’ll let you off the hook.”

He is still tapping his forehead. This must be his tell. Adorable. You’ll certainly use this to your advantage in the future.

“Not a chance.”

“Okay… Show at the same time then?”

You nod and Rafayel picks up his cards. He counts down and you hesitate, letting him lay his cards down first - give him a single moment of pride. A Jack of Spades and a 4 of Clubs. Three of a Kind, enough to beat Sylus, but not enough to beat you. When you lay your cards down Sylus claps.

“Very impressive performance, sweetie.”

You smile at Sylus before finally turning to face Rafayel, who is already pouting.

“A Full House. You had a goddamn Full House?!”

You lean over and kiss his cheek. He runs a hand through his hair.

“You played me.”

You take his hand and give it a squeeze. He yanks his hand free before looping his arm around your neck and pulling you into a tight hug. His face is buried in your neck.

“Guess I still have a lot to learn about you cutie. Hope you’re ready for an interrogation.”

The sound of shoes approaching makes you pull back. You look over your shoulder and see a man in a suit leaning down to speak into Sylus’ ear. Sylus nods and as soon as the man turns to leave he stands and motions for you and Rafayel to follow him.

He takes you into a backroom with several shelving units packed with liquor. A cozy sofa and mini-fridge sit in the corner next to a row of lockers. Sylus begins to pace and Rafayel straddles the arm of the couch.

“What happened?”

“We found our man, but he slipped away. Turns out he is undercover, but we don’t know who he works for exactly. My team lost track of him when he hopped on a bike out back. They got his plate number and they’re going through camera footage for a clear shot of his face.”

You cross your arms and step closer to Sylus.

“Can I have the plate number?”

Sylus looks at you with a rare expression, shock.

“As a hunter I have access to certain things and maybe I can get more information for you.”

“Sweetie, we have ways of getting that intel ourselves you shouldn’t –”

You hold up a hand, silencing him.

“A way that won’t set off any alarms? As a hunter, I’m technically a member of law enforcement, so doing a routine search for a plate won’t raise suspicion. I want to help, so let me.”

Sylus tucks his hands in his pockets and steps even closer, his essence flooding your senses. The scent of whiskey and vanilla, the harsh fluorescent light reflecting off of his silk button up, he commands attention and you can’t help but stare.

“Alright.”

He grabs a napkin from the top of the mini fridge and takes a pen out of his breast pocket. He looks at you and twirls his finger. You squint at him and he repeats the motion, you realize he’s telling you to turn around. You slowly turn and he places the napkin on your back and begins writing.

“Are you using me to–”

He shushes you and when you feel the pen stop you turn to face him. He hands the napkin to you.

“We’ll meet mid-week. Just be sure not to dig your claws in too deep, kitten.”

You can feel Rafayel’s eyes on you, but you dare to step closer.

“Okay, what’s with this ‘kitten’ bullshit?”

Sylus chuckles.

“You just remind me of a mischievous kitten, that’s all.”

You put your hands on your hips and try your best to glare at this mountain of a man.

“Okay, how about we try… Bakeneko? Still a kitten, but twice as fierce.”

Great, he was referring to you as a monster cat, known for being little menaces to those around them. You should be angry, but instead you feel your heart swell with pride. To have your own yokai alias made you feel like you’re a part of their world. You decide to concede for now, the nickname could be worse.

“Fine.”

Sylus laughs and pulls his phone out, tapping it twice before a knock at the door makes you jump. The man who spoke to Sylus at the table enters and hands Sylus a manila folder. He immediately hands it to you. You open it and see a short list of information regarding the individual including the license plate number. You close it and stare at the napkin in your other hand. You look up at Sylus.

“Wait… then what…?”

You open the napkin and see a phone number. Sylus extends his hand and you’re too dumbfounded by his forwardness to register your own actions. You extend your hand and another gentle kiss graces your knuckles.

“I’ll speak to you soon, Bakeneko.”

Sylus leaves the room and you turn to face Rafayel. A subtle pout plays on his lips and you quickly lift his chin to kiss it away. He sighs and rests his hands on your hips.

“Can we get out of here?”

You nod and give him a devious grin. He shrinks back and narrows his eyes at you.

“You have a tattoo appointment after all.”

The bell above the door at Lemuria Studios chimes loudly as you and Rafayel stumble inside. Rafayel has you on his back, holding your legs while your arms wrap around his neck. He kicks the door closed behind him and turns around to press his thumb to the keypad locking it again.

As he walks through the studio your heels slip off your feet and clatter to the floor. He sets you down when he reaches the door to his private studio and unlocks it. You shuffle inside and start examining the various machines and tools.

“So what are ya lookin’ to get today sir?”

Rafayel laughs and moves you to the side to start preparing a station for you. He quickly washes his hands and puts on fresh gloves. You watch him line a metal tray with plastic wrap and secure it with tape. He pulls out two squeeze bottles from a lower cabinet, wrapping them with plastic wrap as well before setting on the tray. He grabs a new disposable razor from a drawer and secures the guard before setting it down. Taking a popsicle stick, he dips into a Vaseline jar and dabs it on the tray, placing small dots close by. He sets two ink caps on the tiny Vaseline dots, the caps sinking into the gel like glue.

You hop up to sit on the counter next to him while he works and you lean down to kiss his temple.

“What colors do you want cutie?”

You look at the bin he pulls out of the cabinet and sift through the bottles.

“Let’s just go with black, I’ll work up the courage to try color another time.”

“Oh, another time? Is this your new hobby?”

He pours black ink into the caps before closing the bottle and returning the bin to the cabinet. He places the new needle, still in its packaging, on the counter while he does a quick inspection of his tattoo machine. He unwraps the container and carefully removes the needle, sliding it in place. He pulls a small bag out of a drawer and drapes it over the gun, securing it with hot pink grip tape. After connecting the power cord, he kicks over the foot pedal and sets the machine on the tray. He sets the tray on the mobile cart next to him and rolls it over to the stool.

He points at the sink and you hop off the counter. As you wash your hands, a sudden wave of anxiety hits you. He’s actually going to let you tattoo him? What if you hurt him? What if it’s ugly? Will he be mad? What are you doing?

“I think your hands are clean…”

You look down to see your hands are red from how hard you were scrubbing them. You dry them with a paper towel and he holds out the box of gloves for you. As you tug on a pair of gloves you watch him clean the chair he’ll sit on. When he finally looks up at you his smile instantly falls.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure this is okay?”

He places his hands on your shoulders and kisses your forehead.

“I am.”

“But what if it’s ugly or I mess up or –”

“You wanna know how I see tattoos? It’s like a photograph, it takes you back to a previous version of yourself and you get to remember who you were and how far you’ve come. 50 years from now, I will look at the tattoo you gave me and remember this time in my life. And I’ll remember how cute you were worrying about giving me an ugly tattoo.”

You look at your feet, overwhelmed with your racing thoughts. The question you’ve been dying to ask gets trapped in your throat. This isn’t the time or place. Rafayel gently holds your chin and makes you look at him.

“What are you thinking?”

“What if you regret it?”

His eyes soften as begins to understand your fear. He lets go of your chin and turns to the counter, opening a drawer. You hear him moving things around for a moment before turning around and holding a pen. He cleans the pen with a wipe and hands it to you. You realize it’s a tattoo pen, he used a similar one to draw the finer details of your tattoo before going in with the needle. He shrugs off his suit jacket, tossing it on the counter before sitting down on the padded bed and folding his hands in his lap.

“A tattoo is a moment, and in this moment, there’s nothing I want more than your artwork on my body. Okay, well… there is another thing, but we probably shouldn’t do that in my studio.”

He winks at you and you almost chuck the pen at his head.

“Also… I will never regret knowing you.”

Your eyes water and you roll your neck in an attempt to hide the wave of emotions that just crashed over you. How did he know? You walk over to him and uncap the pen.

“Where do you want it, pretty boy?”

He starts to slowly unbutton his dress shirt, letting it fall open to reveal his torso. He lays back on the table and places a hand behind his head. With his other hand he points to his hip, right above the waistband of his pants. Your eyes widen and you feel how very dry your mouth has become.

“O-okay.”

You use your foot to tug the stool over and you sit, placing your elbows on the edge of the table and staring at his hip.

“You have to clean and shave the area before drawing anything. Use the green bottle first, then shave, then the clear one.”

You follow his instructions, cleaning his skin and gliding the razor over a small patch of skin. As you do the final cleaning step you bite your lip, you knew what you wanted to draw but doubted your skills. You take a deep breath and begin lightly drawing the outline of your design. You make several adjustments using a makeshift eraser of paper towel dipped in the clear cleanser. Rafayel doesn’t move, he lets you doodle and brainstorm for over an hour. Finally, you sit back and smile.

“Do you want to look at it before I start?”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes.

“Let’s keep it a surprise.”

You pick up the tattoo gun and stare at it like you’ve never seen one before. You clear your throat and gently step on the pedal hearing the machine buzz to life.

“It’s not as scary as it looks.”

You look up to see Rafayel still has his eyes closed.

“Go slow, focus on drawing straight small lines at first. You don’t have to push, just let the machine do the work. Use the paper towel to clear the excess ink. You’ve got this. Oh, and dip your pinkie in the Vaseline, it’ll keep your stencil from smudging.”

You hold the machine with a firm hand and dip the tip in the ink cap. You follow Rafayel’s advice and dip the side of your pinkie in the Vaseline before resting the side of your palm on his stomach. You cautiously draw your first line and wipe at the spot with a paper towel. You’re pleased to see the line is dark and relatively straight. You giggle and dip the needle in the ink cap continuing your work.

Rafayel remains completely still. His steady breathing keeps you calm. With each line, you become more and more confident.

“Let me know if you need more ink.”

“I’m good. I wish I could do some shading, but I don’t think I’m good enough for that.”

Rafayel chuckles. You set down the tattoo gun and wipe it down one last time.

“Okay… I think I’m done.”

Rafayel opens his eyes and sits up. You stand from the stool and watch him stride to the mirror. He stands close and looks between the mirror and his skin. The tattoo itself is more “cutsie” compared to the more intricate artwork he has covering his skin. A small fan-tailed fish floats above a kitten on their back. The small kitten has its paws extended towards the fish, its tail curled and a tiny smile under its button nose.

“I wanted to add bubbles, but they’d just look like circles without shading so…”

Rafayel turns and grabs your face with both hands, he kisses you hard. His hands drop from your face to your hips. You sigh into his mouth and he forces himself to pull back.

“It’s amazing. I would never have guessed this was your first tattoo. How about this, I’ll add some shading to it for you, yea?”

You nod and reach for the bandage Rafayel laid out on the counter. You press the bandage to his hip and use medical tape to secure it. He moves the tray to the counter and kicks the stool into the corner. As soon as you peel your gloves off, Rafayel’s hands are all over you. He pulls you back to him and drags his fingers down your arms, lifting your hands to his shoulders. He dives back in, capturing your lips with his own. He takes a step back and you follow his lead, he backs you against the padded table across the room.

His fingers fiddle with the knot holding the scarf around your chest. You feel the fabric loosen and slowly fall away. The cool air against your bare chest makes your nipples harden and you lean into Rafayel’s warmth. With his chest against yours, you feel his heart pounding. His nipple rings rub against your sensitive peaks and your breathy moans fill the room. He runs his fingers through your hair and you lean back, damn near lying on the table.

You swiftly undo his belt and he kicks his pants down his legs and into a corner. Your hands are just dipping down the front of his boxers when he grabs your wrist.

“Turn around.”

His commanding voice takes you by surprise. Rafayel loved to switch up positions in the bedroom, but he usually prefers when you take the lead. It seems tonight he was worked up for some reason. You make a mental note to ask him about it later, for now you can only focus on how he unbuckles your belt and tugs your pants down with fervor.

“I thought you said… we shouldn't do this in your studio…”

He silences you once his hand wraps around you and he fingers your clit, he traces circles slowly. You whine and push your hips back. He leans against you, his chest pressed to your back. He places open mouth kisses to your shoulder and up your neck, his voice is barely above a whisper.

“I want you to know… I will spend every hour… of every day proving to you… that I will never regret knowing you.”

His cock presses against your entrance he begins rolling his hips forward, dragging his cock through your slick cunt. You let your head fall forward back, your forehead resting on the table. He runs his tip over your clit with his piercing.

“Rafayel… fuck… please!”

He continues teasing you for another moment before you feel that perfect stretch that only his cock can provide. Your chest heaves and a guttural groan erupts from Rafayel’s throat. He lets go of your hips to hold onto the table. He’s halfway in when you feel your knees give out, Rafayel wraps an arm around you and thrusts his hips forward filling you completely.

“Right there oh god oh god yes Rafayel yes!”

He presses his face against your back and lets out a low growl. You know he’s close so you hold your breath and press your hips back. He suddenly pulls out and turns you around. He hikes your leg up over his hip before burying himself into your tight heat once again. You cling to him, your fingernails digging into his upper back. He gasps and he throws his head back. He finally lays you back on the table, one of his arms tucked under you. He grips your thigh and looks down at you with hooded eyes. Sweat drips down his cheek dripping onto your chest.

“Shit shit shiiiiit baby I need to –”

He’s cut off with the sound of a bell ringing. The bell above the front door. You hadn’t even realized what time it was, early morning sunlight was just starting to filter through the windows. Rafayel bites his lip and slows his movements for a moment. You hear footsteps moving across the hardwood floors and the jingle of keys. You look over his shoulder and stare at the door, trying to steady your breathing. You’re about to uncross your ankles and move away when Rafayel rams his hips forward.

“Raf!” You whisper yell.

You glare at him but his expression remains the same. His mouth covers yours in an attempt to silence you and your eyes roll back. A knock brings both of you to a halt.

“Rafayel? Are you in there?”

Thomas, the studio manager, stands just outside the door and knocks again. Rafayel lifts his head and slowly rolls his hips, you close your eyes and try to keep your building orgasm at bay until Thomas is gone. But as Rafayel continues his movements, you know you won’t be able to stop yourself from crying out. So you lunge forward and sink your teeth into his shoulder.

“Fuck!”

Rafayel shouts, not in pain, but rather surprise. There’s another knock on the door.

“Rafayel?”

Rafayel slams his hand against the table, making the legs squeak against the floor. His cock twitches and you squeeze your thighs against his waist.

“Yeah… yes, sorry I stubbed my toe. Fuck!”

Your teeth sink deeper until you taste something metallic. He drags his hips back until only his tip remains tucked in your tight heat. He rams his hips forward and as soon as his piercing hits your g-spot you come. The sudden burst of warmth gushes over his cock and down his thighs. Your orgasm makes you bite down harder causing his release to spill into you.

A loud scoff from Thomas is heard through the door.

“You know you can just say you’re fucking your girlfriend, right? Her heels are in the lobby.”

You unlock your jaw and release his shoulder, your head hits the table with a quiet thud.

“Sorry Thomas…”

Your breathy apology makes Rafayel chuckle. He rests his forehead against yours as his cock softens inside you. He kisses the tip of your nose and looks down at you with such reverence your eyes start to water again. He kisses your cheeks and when a tear falls, he kisses it away humming softly.

“Just clean the room before opening, please. I’m going to get another coffee.”

You hear his footsteps fade and the bell above the front door chime. Rafayel slips out of you and picks you up, setting you on the table. He runs his tongue over his labret piercing, sucking into his mouth. This cute little habit of his usually means he’s overthinking. You lift your hand and tug on his bottom lip with your thumb. He releases his piercing and sighs.

“We’ve never talked about that…”

“About what?”

“Using titles… like that.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and he steps forward between your legs.

“Do you want to use titles?”

“I’d… love to call you my girlfriend, but do you want to call me your boyfriend?”

You cup his cheeks in your hands and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“My boyfriend.”

You kiss the tip of his nose.

“My boyfriend, Rafayel.”

You kiss his left cheek and then his right.

He leans into your touch, savoring each kiss.

“Yes, I’d love to call you mine.”

Before he can pull you into another kiss, your eyes catch the swollen red spot on his shoulder. You see your bite mark, a small drop of blood trickling down to his chest.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I didn’t… I shouldn’t have…”

He looks down at his shoulder and wipes the blood away with his thumb.

“I’m fine! You were just marking your territory.”

You slap his chest and he pulls you into a hug, his hands rub your back and you melt into his embrace. To think a few weeks ago you were on this table getting a tattoo and now you’re naked, holding onto your boyfriend. A sexy tattoo artist who has an illegal hobby of street racing his high end motorcycle and is much more complex than you could ever imagine. You’re not sure how, but the unexpected direction your life has taken has only brought you joy. And you’re excited to see where life with Rafayel takes you.

(AN Part 2: I don't know how to play poker, so I hope this is accurate! Also, mini spoiler for Part 3 - more crowfish smut. Smile.)

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22 @letharue @silverbrain @m00nchildwrites @plsdonttakemyname @spacegroteske @namjoonseuphoria @celestialforce @rafshottestgf @oxamarok @withering-dream @zaynessbeloved @animecrazy76 @yournextdoorhousewitch @hauntedbysmut @addiglessthanthree @4ttack-ur-heart

226 notes · View notes

contemplatingoutlander · 5 months ago

Text

"The Judges, both of the supreme and inferior Courts, shall hold their Offices during good Behaviour, and shall, at stated Times, receive for their Services, a Compensation, which shall not be diminished during their Continuance in Office." (Article III, Section 1) [emphasis added]

Alexander Hamilton would be outraged to know that the current Supreme Court justices assume the Constitution gives them lifetime appointments — regardless of their behavior. He wouldn’t understand how any justice could overlook Article III, Section I that states that judges and justices “shall hold their Offices during good Behaviour.”

In the above commentary, Jack Jordan makes an excellent case that the Founders' intentions regarding the tenure of federal justices and judges has been grossly misinterpreted--and by justices who claim to be "originalists." Below are some excerpts:

A favorite falsehood by fake originalists (including those on SCOTUS) is that federal judges have “life tenure” or “lifetime appointments” (essentially the right to employment for life). Nothing explicitly or implicitly in our Constitution supports that myth. Often, so-called originalists who assert such falsehoods are lying to us about our Constitution. [...] Our Constitution (Article III) strongly and clearly emphasized that all federal “Judges,” i.e., “of the supreme [court] and [all] inferior Courts shall” (and may) “hold their Offices” only “during good Behaviour.” This particular principle was discussed repeatedly and in multiple respects during the debates over whether the people should ratify our Constitution. Such discussions are evidence of what the people actually did ratify. Such discussions are evidence of what the people (including Federalists and Antifederalists) understood our Constitution meant. Some of the most obvious and emphatic statements were by Alexander Hamilton in The Federalist No. 78. Hamilton emphasized that some state “constitutions” already “established GOOD BEHAVIOR as the tenure of their judicial offices” and our Constitution “would have been inexcusably defective, if it had [failed to include] this important feature of good government.” “The standard of good behavior for the continuance in office of the judicial magistracy” was carefully (and repeatedly) chosen to be “one of the most valuable of the modern improvements in the practice of government.” [color/ emphasis added]

______________ Alexander Hamilton image was AI generated by Shutterstock.

[See more excerpts below the cut.]

[...] Hamilton also emphasized that judges are “servant[s]” or “representative[s]” of “the people.” We the People used our Constitution (Article III) to impose the “standard of good behavior” on judges as an “excellent barrier to the encroachments and oppressions of [all our] representative[s]” and “to secure a steady, upright, and impartial administration of the laws” by all our public servants. [...] Repeatedly, Hamilton and James Madison emphasized similar principles. Ours is “a republic, where every magistrate ought to be personally responsible for his behavior in office.” The Federalist No. 70 (Hamilton). Having “courts composed of judges holding their offices” only “during good behavior” is a “powerful means” for ensuring “the excellences of republican government may be retained and its imperfections lessened or avoided.” The Federalist No. 9 (Hamilton). “The tenure by which the judges are to hold their places, is, as it unquestionably ought to be, that of good behavior.” The Federalist No. 39 (James Madison). Only “judges” who “behave properly, will be secured in their places for life.” The Federalist No. 79 (Hamilton). In The Federalist No. 81 (Hamilton) also addressed a particular form of bad judicial behavior that is remarkably common among some SCOTUS justices: “judges” committing “deliberate usurpations” of “authority” that was not delegated to them by our Constitution. Hamilton also emphasized “the important constitutional check which the power of instituting impeachments” (by the House of Representatives) “and of determining upon them” (in a trial by the Senate) “would give to” Congress as “the means of punishing [the] presumption” of judges usurping powers that the Constitution did not give judges or courts (or to Congress, which creates all federal courts below SCOTUS). [color/ emphasis added]

So the Founders expected federal judges and justices who were not showing "good behavior" to be removed.

This also suggests that they would have expected the Supreme Court to develop a code of ethics that had actual teeth, in addition to the institutional check against bad judicial behavior that they put in place by allowing Congress to impeach corrupt justices.

Unfortunately, the Founders didn't expect that in the future one party in Congress (the Republicans) would be so corrupt that there is no way they would ever impeach the equally corrupt right-wing "politicians in robes" on the current Supreme Court.

Still, anytime a justice asserts that they have tenure for life in an interview, the interviewer might want to remind them about that "good behavior" stipulation in Article III, and ask them how they are making sure they are fulfilling that requirement for their continued tenure.

#scotus #good behavior #justices don't have tenure for life #article III section 1 #the constitution #alexander hamilton #james madison #jack jordan #black-collar crime #my edits

52 notes · View notes

guzhufuren · 11 months ago

Text

GMMTV Thailand 🇹🇭 A Guide to Some of the Best Queer Asian Shows

Full list here.

1. My School President high school setting; secret crush; school president/rebel musician

Gun is the head of his high school music club. Tinn is a school president and Gun's long-term rival. The Principal wants to disband some of the school’s “useless” after-school clubs, especially the music club. Per school rules, the student council president is the one who has the power to dissolve clubs. Gun is now at Tinn’s mercy, so he attempts to do whatever he can to persuade his rival not to cancel the music club. Little does he know, Tinn actually has a secret crush on him. Could romance brew as Gun makes a desperate attempt to secure the future of his band?

Viki (MSP) & YouTube (Our Skyy special 33-40) & YouTube (special)

2. Moonlight Chicken adult romance; age gap; deaf character

Jim is an ordinary guy running a chicken rice diner. One night, he meets Wen when he stays past closing drunk. Brought together by fate that night, intangible feelings arise. Neither can stop thinking about the other despite Jim's efforts to remain unattached. Jim also takes care of his nephew Li Ming, who is falling in love with Heart, a deaf teenager who is practically kept under house arrest by his affluent parents.

YouTube

3. Not Me revolution; freedom fighters; secret twins

When his twin Black is viciously attacked and subsequently left hospitalised in unconsciousness, White is unable to endure the harm done to his brother in silence. He learns Black was a part of a gang of anti-capitalist freedom fighters, and it was one of them who betrayed him. White disguises himself as Black to discover which one of them betrayed him and put him in a coma.

YouTube

4. 23.5 wlw; high school setting; secret admirer

Ongsa moves to a new school and meets Sun, a cute popular girl who she immediately falls for. However, she decides to approach Sun in instagram dms under the pseudonym Earth, leading Sun to believe she's talking to a guy. But Ongsa does not want to lose the opportunity to talk to Sun, so she decides to keep the fact that she is a girl a secret and continue talking as Earth.

YouTube

5. Bad Buddy (+ Zero Photography) enemies to lovers; forbidden romance; university setting; wlw side couple

Fueled by their parents animosity, Pat and Pran have competed with each other in nearly everything in life. In public, they are rivals, but behind closed doors the pair are open to being friends… maybe more.

YouTube (Bad Buddy) & YouTube (Zero Photography) & YouTube (Our Skyy Special 49-60)

6. Cherry Magic Thailand mind reading; secret crush; office setting

By still being a vіrgin at 30, Achi gains a magical power – the ability to read other people's minds by touching them. At first, he’s overwhelmed by his new ability, and it’s not proving to be helpful to him. But that all changes when he accidentally touches their office’s most perfect guy Karan, who he learns has romantic feelings for him.

No easy international streaming available to my knowledge, watch on KissKH. I also recommend watching original japanese show first, it’s listed in the japanese section.

7. Enchanté childhood friends to lovers; university setting

After living in France, Theo comes back to Thailand and he meets his childhood friend, Akk. Theo finds a book with a message welcoming him and signed as Enchanté, he becomes curious about who this guy is. Will Theo successfully guess who is the Enchanté in the university?

YouTube

8. 3 Will Be Free polyamorous trio; on the run; mafia

After an unexpected event that involves sex work and mafia gangs, three individuals find themselves on-the-run together as they attempt to escape death.

YouTube

9. Theory of Love unrequited love; best friends to lovers

Third year film student Third has been harboring feelings for his friend Khai. After three years of painful unrequited love, Third decides to stop, no matter how difficult it may be. But when Third decides to stop, Khai decides to start.

YouTube

10. He's Coming to Me ghost/human

After his death, Met is a ghost consumed by loneliness. That is until he meets a strange boy that can see him. The two bond in a state of happiness and joy as they develop into friends. But what happens when Met falls for the boy who is alive? YouTube

11. Last Twilight blind character/caretaker

Mhok, who can't seem to get his life back on track after spending six months in prison, applies for a high-paying job as a caregiver to Day, a young man with partial blindness. Day used to be a badminton athlete with a bright future who discovered that his cornea is injured and he will soon become completely blind. Day hires Mhok who—unlike other applicants—seems to take no pity on him. With so much time spent in each others' company, the two develop a deep bond.

YouTube i recommend to stop watching on episode 12 clip 3/4 timestamp 28:04, because after that moment the story goes for the “curing disability” trope and gets ruined, but it will not be ruined for you if you stop.

12. Be My Favorite time travel

Kawi has been in love with Pearmai since university. After receiving an invitation to her wedding with Pisaeng, Kawi spirals into regret. He uses a crystal ball to travel back in time to the age of eighteen to set things right with her. But everything turns upside-down. Instead of fulfilling his hopes and setting things right with Pearmai, Kawi somehow ends up in the arms of Pisaeng, Pearmai's future fiance. Thus begin their cat-and-mouse games with Pisaeng chasing after Kawi. Enraged, Kawi keeps twisting the crystal ball in an attempt to get his desired outcome. But what if Botkawee and Pearmai were never meant to be together? What if he was destined to be with Piseang instead?

YouTube

13. The Eclipse high school setting; self discovery; corrupt school system; school president/rebel

Akk is a head student prefect in country’s leading all-boys school. Rumour has it that there is a curse that will punish students who disobey the school rules, a curse that grows stronger as the solar eclipse nears. Akk has to keep an eye on a mysterious new student Ayan, who regularly challenges the school’s norms.

YouTube & YouTube (Our Skyy Special 17-24)

14. A Tale of Thousand Stars (1000Stars) a second chance in life; village setting

After a volunteer teacher dies in a tragic accident, her heart is transplanted into Tian. He learns about his donor’s life through her diary and decides to follow in her footsteps. Now a new village volunteer teacher himself, Tian meets Phupha and as the two slowly grow closer, Tian notices his new heart beats quickly whenever he's near the man. Much like the heart’s previous owner, Tian cannot help but fall for Phupha.

Viki or YouTube (ATOTS) & YouTube (Our Skyy Special 49-60)

15. Only Friends queer friend group; messy relationships

A group of business students running a hostel together blur the lines between friendship and romance. Mew has been focusing on his studies, setting aside no time for sex and relationships. Upon learning of his friend's innocence, Boston introduces Mew to Top. What Boston intended to be his friend's one-night affair turns into something more and he isn't happy with the turn of events. Economics student Sand wants an exclusive relationship with Ray, but Ray has feelings for Mew. IT shop worker Nick finds nudes in Boston's phone and ends up in a friends-with-benefits relationship with him.

YouTube

16. Never Let Me Go rich boy/bodyguard; high school setting; mafia

Nueng is the son of a mafia leader. One day his father is killed and Nueng is forced to take the reins in his place. His mother appoints Palm, a country boy, to be his bodyguard and protect him from dangers in and out of school. However, one person would like to see Nueng dead: his uncle who aims to become the next mafia leader. Will Palm successfully protect Nueng from the dangers balanced by his uncle, as the two begin to fall in love?

YouTube & YouTube (Our Skyy Special 1-8)

17. A Boss and a Babe office setting; boss/intern

Cher, a vibrant aspiring pro-gamer, has just started his internship at a gaming company led by Gun, the uncompromising CEO. In addition to his gaming, Cher has an ASMR channel and it's those videos that coax Gun to sleep every night. As they continue to grow closer both in and out of the workplace, what will become of their striking connection?

YouTube & YouTube (Our Skyy Special 41-48)

18. 2gether (+ Still 2gether) fake/pretend relationship; university setting

When Tine is chased by Green, who he does not reciprocate feelings for — he ends up begging Sarawat, the campus’ most popular guy, to fake date him in order to chase Green away.

Viki (2gether) & Viki (Still 2gether)

19. Cupid's Last Wish (+ Zero Supporter) farm setting; best friends to lovers; body swap; road trip

Korn and Win are childhood best friends. Conflicts arise when Win's father includes Korn in his will, granting him part of the family's farm's stocks and breaking up their friendship. Win gets into a car accident with his sister Lin, and wakes up to find his soul in her body. To return to his original body, Win sets off on a road trip to collect holy water across the country with Korn as his companion. Can this adventure get their relationship back?

YouTube (CLW) & YouTube (Zero Supporter)

20. Dark Blue Kiss (+ pre-story in Kiss Me Again) established relationship; university setting

(Taking off from the Kiss Me Again series) Pete and Kao have grown closer to each other in their relationship. Kao takes on part-time tutoring for high school students. With one of the students fueling Pete's jealousy, his relationship with Kao gets tested in several occasions. Meanwhile, the love story between Sun and Mork begins.

YouTube (Kiss Me Again) & YouTube (Dark Blue Kiss)

---

You can watch many shows for free on YouTube, and watch others on the streaming websites by setting VPN to Thailand. In other cases I recommend paying for subscriptions to show appreciation and support of content in order to get more of it in the future, but if you can’t, watch on KissKH (better quality), Dramacool or get files from MkvDrama. Enjoy! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

#mygifs #mine #thai ql #gmmtv ql

96 notes · View notes

cazshmere · 8 months ago

Note

hii ! ive been trying to get into reading my own astrology for a while but one thing has me so confused, wth is a house ?!?! and how do u find out what house ur venus or anything really is in ?? because nobodys been explaining 😭😭

Heyy!! So basically in astrology, a "house" is like a section of your birth chart that represents different areas of your life, such as relationships, career, and home. There are 12 houses, and each one focuses on a specific aspect of your life.

The 12 houses are :

1. First House (Ascendant/Rising Sign): Self and appearance. It represents your personality, physical appearance, and how you start things.

2. Second House: Finances and values. It deals with money, personal possessions, and what you value most.

3. Third House: Communication and siblings. This house governs communication, short trips, siblings, and early education.

4. Fourth House (IC): Home and family. It represents your home, family, roots, and your sense of security.

5. Fifth House: Creativity and children. It covers creativity, romance, fun, children, and hobbies.

6.Sixth House: Health and work. This house relates to daily routines, health, work, and service.

7. Seventh House (Descendant): Partnerships. It governs relationships, marriage, partnerships, and open enemies.

8. Eighth House: Transformation and shared resources. It involves transformation, sexuality, shared finances, and the mysteries of life and death.

9. Ninth House: Philosophy and travel. It deals with higher education, long-distance travel, philosophy, religion, and law.

10. Tenth House (MC/Midheaven): Career and public life. This house represents your career, public image, and long-term goals.

11. Eleventh House: Friends and groups. It covers friendships, groups, social causes, and aspirations.

12. Twelfth House: Subconscious and solitude. It involves the subconscious mind, solitude, secrets, and things hidden from view.

you can also refer to this wheel for more insight 👇🏽

#astrology #astrology works #astrology asks #astro questions #astrology notes #astro basics #houses in astrology #astro note

41 notes · View notes

cultofthewyrm · 6 months ago

Text

by ぴろ

#ghost in the shell #motoko kusanagi #cyberpunk #anime #batou #togusa #public security section 9 #ghost in the shell 95

55 notes · View notes

savage-kult-of-gorthaur · 11 months ago

Text

MAJOR -- THE MAJOR -- FIELD COMMANDER OF PUBLIC SECURITY SECTION 9.

PIC INFO: Resolution at 848x1424 -- Spotlight on A.I. generated art of "The Major," a.k.a., Major Motoko Kusanagi, the cybernetic main protagonist in Masamune Shirow's anime/ manga series, "Ghost in the Shell," artwork by @nhoeskape, a.k.a., "Nho Eskape," published March 23, 2024.

Source: https://twitter.com/nhoeskape/status/1771757007734788211.

7 notes · View notes

depravednexus · 2 months ago

Note

(@restricteddxcks) 'Ahegao' Deunan to the Major

{XX}

"D-Deunan!! S-shtop!! I`I'm cummink~!!!" The stimulation Major was feeling through her combined erogenous zones (nipples, clit, and the like), was overloading her central processes, creating a slight feedback loop that amplified her pleasure exponentially until she was forced into an orgasm induced shut down, her face freezing in the peak of its ahegao expression as her juices continued to pour from her pussy.

#public security section 9 {major}

2 notes · View notes

personalitynexus · 11 months ago

Note

For the Major: Deunan Knute, Faith Connors, and Fem Shep

{XX}

"Interestingly enough, I know two of the three mentioned here."

#Public Security Section 9 {Major}

2 notes · View notes

muzansfangs · 2 years ago

Text

Guilty pleasure.

Starring: Muzan x f!reader; Douma, Kagaya Ubuyashiki, Sanemi Shinazugawa; mention to Douma x Enmu.

Warnings: nsfw, public sex, language, choking, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, dom!Muzan, unprotected sex, mention to gun violence, obsessive behavior, hair pulling, exhibitionism, psychological torture, revenge.

Plot: the war begins. Muzan is ready to show you off. But as he drives you mad, making you slip into the deep end, making it loud and clear that you are his, you get to see his dark side. He does not seem to have limits and his only goal is to make you understand what kind of love he can give you: possessive, toxic, addictive. He punishes Douma, he breaks your father’s heart, although you have no idea of who Kagaya is if not another Politician.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

THE CALL.

"Tell me, love, did you read each and every clause of the contract?" Muzan asked you, his hands kneading the plush of your ass fondly as you gulped down nervously.

You had read the contract, of course you had. The thing was that trying to recall all the clauses right now, with his groin pressing against your heat, back arching in a painful angle to resemble a sinuous panther about to attack, was nearly impossible. What was he talking about?

"I did. – you spat, eyes on the polished marble floor as you tried to focus – What's the matter?".

Muzan hummed, one of his hand sliding down your spine, until he reached the back of your neck, where he wrapped his fingers around in a iron grip "Then I assume you surely remember what's on page four, section one, don't you?" he cooed, pulling you up towards his chest, until your back was pressed against his chiseled abs.

Dear God, there was no way you were going to remember that. Especially now, when every molecule of your body felt as if it was on fire. Your cheeks flushed up, when Muzan's hot breath fanned your earlobe and you struggled not to melt right on the spot. You did not really want to let him watch the way you easily, effortlessly crumbled at his feet whenever he touched you. Then again, it was impossible to hide it, when you literally melted as a pathetic sugar cube under the scorching sunlight at the mere way his fingers grazed upon your cheek.

"Was it not the 'sexual performances' section?" you somehow breathed out, your heart thrumming into your chest. You knew he could feel it, his mouth was currently latched onto your neck. His lips traced your jugular with a feather-like touch that was making you lose your mind. You felt the way your veins pulsed under his kisses.

He seems pleased with your answer, grinning faintly as he grazed the crook of your neck with his teeth "Ten points to Slytherin – he joked, securing one arm around your waist and sliding the other up to the front of your throat – Do you remember what's written under the 'appendix two?' Mh?".

What kind of wicked game was he playing?

You gulped down forcefully, mouth dry as you struggled to keep up with him. He had always been dominant in bed, but there was something in his voice tonight, something in the way he was practically manhandling you that radiated danger. The sort of danger that seeped into your heart and turned you into a weak girl easily allured in the darkness.

"Limits, I suppose" you blurted out, sweat already beading your forehead.

He gave your throat a firm, yet not harsh squeeze and elicited a throaty groan from you "Limits. That's right. Apparently, you studied hard for me, sweetheart. – he hoarsely said, mocking you for your current poor state – Tonight, we are going to explore some activities enlisted under that appendix" he clarified, tugging your underwear down your thighs easily.

You glared at him, both aroused and irritated by his antics. Was he into sadism? Probably. You remembered something involving 'pain' into the contract. The thing was you did not expect him to bring it on that soon.

"Muzan what the fuck is happening?" you pressed, shivering as the cool air made contact with your now exposed heat.

You wanted to turn around and look him straight in the eye, but his iron grip on your neck and the position he was keeping you in restricted your movements and forced you to bear with his brilliant ideas of drawing pleasure.

The soon to be President chuckled, his hot breath fanning your earlobe and sending shivers down your spine "Oh, sweetheart, don't worry. I just want to teach some people a lesson. Clearly, I cannot do that without you. Then again, I know for sure you don't mind it" he said, his voice dropping a few octaves as you realized that it was not going to he a normal passionate night.

You lolled your head back onto his shoulder, batting your eyes closed for a few seconds as you let his words sink in. Were you already helping him to commit crimes? Were you already going to be the villain's apprentice?

"So be it" you breathed out then, your heart thrumming against your ribcage so hard to thought it was only a matter of time before it came out of your chest.

Muzan grinned, the glint of mischief in his eyes would have probably made you regret your choice. Yet, you could not see it in the current position you were in. A part of you, actually, was glad of it.

Before you had time to realize what was happening, Muzan shoved your face down onto the couch and slithered his fingers underneath the elastic bands of your panties. You blushed as he dragged the thin material down your legs, exposing your already wet folds. You were not ashamed of him seeing you naked. You were far from it, actually.

What troubled you was letting him know that his antagonistic antics had clearly done numbers on you.

"Ah, look at that. Do villainous plans excite you, baby?" he mocked you, grinning down at your slit.

"Cut the crap, please" you hastily fired back, partially glad he could not see your rosy cheeks right now. However, your acrid comeback was apparently not appreciated by your boyfriend, whose hand harshly made contact with the soft flesh of your right rear.

You yelped, eyes widening for the sudden spank. The pain was sharp, the stinging but pleasurable sensation still lingering on your skin, teasing your nerves. You loathed him. No, you did not loath him. You had to be honest with yourself.

You hated the way he made you feel.

"Now, what was that? – Muzan cooed, gliding his fingers down your slit, careful not to stimulate you yet – You need to cooperate and be a good girl, sweetheart. I do not really wish to screw up my plans because you cannot clamp your pretty little mouth shut for once" he reprimanded you in a infuriatingly fatherly tone.

You would have loved to retort something, but he suddenly plunged the said fingers into you and a throaty moan left your lips. He kissed the shell of your ear, his teeth nibbling at the tender flesh as he curled his fingers into you, making your legs shake. Years of experience, years of sins had forged him to know exactly how to break a woman.

"What's your plan, huh?" you asked him, before sinking your foreteeth onto your lower lip to fight back a sinful moan.

Muzan smirked, hooded eyes glancing at the way you furrowed your brows in pleasure for him. You were so beautiful, you were his and he had promised not to let anyone take you away from him. Everybody needed to be reminded that you were his property.

He did not even feel guilty at the thought of what was about to happen. You, a pure and innocent soul, in the hands of a monster like him. He had wondered many times what would have become of you in a few years. While he did not want to ruin your purity, he also was aware that it would have been impossible for you not to be bewitched by the darkness.

Was it not true, after all, that angels had fallen in disgrace too? It was only a matter of time.

Therefore, it was better for you to learn how to cope with his wicked schemes. Two people, two men would have learnt a lesson too today. As he heard the lewd, squelching sounds of your heat sucking in his fingers, he knew the yearned First Act could finally take place.

"Sit on my cock. Now" he hissed in your ear, removing his tick fingers from your entrance and eliciting a strained, dissatisfied whine of protest from you.

"What the hell are you doing?" you promptly retorted, glancing behind your shoulder to lock eyes with him. What a mistake. If you could brag about a dim track of decency still set in your heart, it surely expired as you caught a glimpse of him shoving his fingers, coated in your essence, into his mouth.

You sighed, face beet red, and you immediately averted your eyes from him to take a moment to regain your self-control. It was like relentlessly falling into sins with him. You felt yourself, the innocent version of you, slipping away with every second you spent by his side.

As you hesitantly turned towards him again, you knew one thing for sure: he did not have anything good up his sleeve.

You gulped down forcefully, his characteristic ferocious smile curled his lips as his crimson hues bored into yours in pure lust. He was expecting you to crawl over his lap, he was demanding you to obey him, to comply to his sinful requests. It somehow felt like he was enjoying seeing you trying to oppose yourself to your own primordial instinct that he was awakening that easily. Your eyes switched for a split second from him to the the front door and you sighed in defeat, reality dawning on you all of a sudden. You were no linger the same girl you were you had hopped into Kokushibo's car, when you had crossed that door for the first time and signed his contract.

Still, as you watched him dragging his boxers down his thighs, you wondered how much of your old self would have been left into you in the near future.

Was that the beginning of a twisted fairytale, or a nefandous downfall?

As you made your move and stood up to straddle his lap, he grasped your left wrist and planted a kiss on it, his half-lidded eyes glancing up at you in a lascivious gaze that sent shivers down your spine. His touch, the way his lips grazed your tender flesh should have been labeled as illegal. You blushed and held your breath as he grinned, his hot breath still fanning the sensitive skin of your wrist. He was so self-assured in everything he did, not even realizing what kind of influence he had over you.

"Not like that. — he darkly said, motioning for you to turn around as his other arm snaked down around your waist — That's all part of the plan, my love. You know what a cowgirl reverse is, don't you?" he flatly asked you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You blushed and took a deep breath, before slowly nodding your head "I was a virgin when I met you, but surely not a saint" you commented flatly, allowing him to help you lower yourself down onto his shaft. Your legs were trembling and your cheeks were literally boiling, but his surprisingly gentle touch was enough to encourage you to go ahead.

You held your breath as the tip of his cock brushed against your entrance and you squeezed your eyes shut to prepare for the stretch.

"Good to know. You lost your last chance to be a saint forever anyway, when you signed the contract" he huskily rasped, his hot breath fanning the shell of your ear as he slowly sheathed himself into you.

Your legs trembled, as you let him cage you in that position. The strained moan that left your lips tasted like honey on his lips, as he wrapped his hand firmly around your throat, but not to choke you this time. It was a mere selfish gesture to assert his dominance over you, over his woman. You two stood still in that position, until your walls perfectly embraced him, your shallow breaths were the only audible sound in the silent room, as he kissed your temple gently and spoke again.

"You are doing amazing, love" he purred, before he grasped a golden bell from the armrest, tolling twice it and causing your eyes to flutter open again. It was time to show his dominance, to show his rivals that it was forbidden to touch and yearn for something that was never theirs. It was time to show them he had already won, that he had taken away the most precious thing from him.

Two names haunted him and he would have not been able to rest until those men got his message.

What was that, though? That sound, that bell, you had already seen use them around. He called his grunts with it.

You glanced at the tiny object, as he settled it back on the black leather armrest and you felt your mouth run dry as you connected the dots. You had not imagined Muzan had worked out something as degrading and wicked as this and you shifted over his lap, causing him to repress a throaty moan.

"Muzan, what's this shit?" you breathed out, sweat beading your forehead as he propped his chin over your shoulder, plating a kiss on your jaw.

The soon to be President hummed, thrusting up into you once to make you understand who was in command "It's all part of the plan, sweetheart. — he darkly purred in your ear, stressing that nickname way too much for your likings — I need my phone and I honestly do not really feel like getting it myself, when you're cock-warming me so deliciously" he explained, as you whined softly and came to terms with the fact that someone was going to walk in any minute.

The question was simple now. Who?

"Why are you doing this? That's humiliating" you asked him, trying not to let yourself enjoy the way his cock twitched into you every now and then. This was like experiencing your personal living hell and your eyes were transfixed on the door, waiting for someone to burst into the room and contemplate Muzan buried into you.

"Not for you, sweetheart. For him" Muzan cooed, grinning and sucking onto the crook of your neck unbothered by the current situation he had dragged you in.

Him. So it was a man, you noted.

"Can you stop calling me 'sweetheart'?" you snapped then, your heart thrumming into your chest as you heard the sound footsteps approaching. They echoed through the walls, each of them making your heart throb into your chest. It was your end. The end of your decency.

Muzan chortled and tugged at your hair abruptly, earning a yelp from you "Why? Don't you like it when I call you 'sweetheart'? Ah, now I get it! There's only one person who calls you that around this house, right? Oh, it's such a shame I have dismissed everyone except for him today... Say 'hi’, to Douma, love" he said, as you connected the dots.

Your partner hummed and grasped your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet with a pair of shimmering, unholy multicolored irises, now staring in complete shock at you.

Douma. Douma and his nicknames. Douma and the threat Muzan had roared at your face in the car. It felt surreal.

You gawked, unable to spit out a single word as the silver-haired bodyguard stood a few strides away from you, his jaw clenched, his gloved hands reching up to fix his tie as he tried to avert his eyes from the sinful show his boss was offering him.

You had never seen Douma so serious in all his life. As you examined his face, you realized his perfect nose was still bruised from Muzan's punch. Your fiancé had apparently really developed a kink for torturing his Second in Command.

"Good evening, Muzan-sama. — Douma said, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down spasmodically — You called for me. Do you need anything?" he asked, as the dark-haired man at your back flicked his plum red eyes up on Douma.

Muzan did not answer at first, he reached for a flûte of champagne on the coffee table and pressed the rim of it again your lips, forcing you to open your lips and letting him pour the bittersweet drink into your mouth. Douma was entranced by that vision, by the way you blushed and allowed Muzan to feed you, by the small whimper falling from your lips as he set a slow pace and thrusted up into you.

You were too overwhelmed to comprehend what was going on, but when Muzan settled the glass back down and tilted your head to the side, latching his lips onto the tender flesh of your neck again, you knew that he was taking his time, savouring the look of anguish and hunger filling Douma's eyes.

Muzan did not need to explain anything. The intent of his actions were pretty clear. Therefore, he simply asked for the device he needed to ultimate this devious plan.

"I have forgetten my phone in my office. Take it and hand it to her" he rasped, as you glanced up at Douma and watched him dash down the corridor to seek Muzan's phone.

You moaned in the meanwhile, as your soon to be husband kept you warmed up with that tediously slow pace. You wanted it to stop, you would have loved to protest, but you were so screwed up that you found yourself simply following his lead.

Some soft grunts left Muzan's lips, as he squeezed your hip to make you snap out of from the realm of bliss he was letting you venture into. Your lifted your eyelids, your vision partially blurry for the tears of pleasure peeking at your lashes. You blinked. Once, twice, thrice. And then you saw him.

There he was, Douma, standing in front of you, handing Muzan's phone to you as he tried to look away.

Was it out of respect, discomfort, or jealousy?

You could not care less at that moment. Not when you showed him the open palm of your hand and locked eyes with him for a split second.

"T-Thank you..." you wheezed, watching Douma settle the device on your shaky hand and turning on his heels to leave the room. Muzan was satisfied. You were so accomodating, so perfect for him. He wanted to tell you that the part of the clause that you did not remember was exhibitionism. He was born for it, he craved to show you off like that.

He raved at the idea of Douma being utterly frustrated, biting his tongue as was forced to call that brat of the Seventh in Command to take care of his needs.

You were Muzan's property. If he could make sure to engrave his name onto your skin, saving you from suffering, he would have done it without blinking. Yet, had he not done it back in time? The scar on your leg, the mark left forever on your your skin by the bullet, when he had fired his gun against you all those years ago, did not scream his name?

"Good girl. Now, give me the phone" he calmly purred in your ear, making you wither even more as you felt yourself approaching the apex of your pleasure.

Blinded by lust, tasting the forbidden fruits you would have never imagined you were going to eat in your whole life, you handed him his phone to complete his task. He searched for a number.

That number he had never called, waiting for this moment to arrive.

As he clicked on the name of the person he wanted to punish, he clasped his hand over your mouth. His mouth brushing against your earlobe, as he hotly spoke out again "When I release your mouth, you have to answer each fucking question I am going to ask you, got it?".

Shivers ran down your spine, your teary eyes not allowing you to read the name of the person he was calling on the screen. You nodded your head, humming against the palm of his hand as he started to pick up his pace.

At the third ring, the stranger picked up the phone.

"Hello?" the man calmly asked, not recognizing the number of the caller.

At his right the white-haired man, Whirlwind, frowned as he carelessly polished his green katana. It was rather unusual for his Master to receive a call this late at night from a contact that was not from his subordinates.

A hoarse laughter echoed through the speakers, before Muzan chided "Ubuyashiki Kagaya, I have a message for you. — his voice dripped venom, as he taunted his rival — I thought it would have been a shame not to deliver it personally to you... After all, we're both invitated to the Gala next weekend. I don't want you to have an heart attack on the red carpet" he said, chortling as he made you whimper for a hard thrust.

Kagaya's eyes widened as he stood up from his seat, alerting his Slayer immediately.

"Kibutsuji Muzan, I assume. What do you want?" the lilac-eyed man, your father, said.

"There's something you should hear from a very special guest, currently sitting on my lap. She's so eager to know you" Muzan taunted, a guttural moan erupting from his throat.

"Let her out of this story. It's mine the head you crave" Kagaya replied, his voice weavering as his grip on his phone tightened.

Yet, there was no rest for the wicked. No one in that city would have slept that night.

"What's your name, doll?" Muzan asked you, ignoring Kagaya reply as he let go of your mouth.

You were too out of your mind to realize what Muzan was doing. A master puppet, a sadist, a man whose redemption would have probably never come. You did not know who Kagaya Ubuyashiki really was. You did not know that the blood running in his veins was his.

"Y/N L/N!" you babbled out, moaning softly.

"Who is fucking you?".

"M-Muzan Kibutsuji!" you piped out, blushing violently as you reached your climax.

Muzan hissed and gave you a few more thrusts, before staying still and releasing into your welcoming walls. You whined as you panted in his arms, Muzan's wolfish grin widening as he collected his breath.

"She’s chosen her side, Kagaya. See you at the Gala and thanks for the gift. You know what I mean".

The red button was pressed and the real war was coming.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there!

I have finally been able to update my fic! I hope you can enjoy this chapter. I had to dive into holy water right after I had finished writing it, lmao. I am sorry for the delay, but university is hitting hard! Thank you so much for every like, comment and repost you leave under my works! I truly appreciate them!❤️

Tag list: @tired-writer04 @hjjks @kakuchosbff @yazzzmints @bookandstar @z3rOart @cherrymanhuas @kazuhaslvt @selenenyx0124 @infinitedilf @yunixkill @shigarakithings @i-loveyou013 @yoriichi-second-wife

@sunaswife @lucikittyxoxo

#muzan x reader #kibutsuji muzan x reader #muzan x y/n #muzan smut #muzan x you #muzan kibutsuji x reader #douma x reader #demon slayer smut #douma #kagaya ubuyashiki #demon slayer fanfic

387 notes · View notes